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Book JQ! 

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ELOCUTION; 

3.0 b 



OR, 



MENTAL AND VOCAL PHILOSOPHY: 



INVOLVING THE PRINCIPLES OP 

READING AND SPEAKING; 

AND DESIGNED 

FOR THE DEVELOPMENT AND CULTIVATION 
BOTH BODY AND MIND, 



IN ACCOKDANCE WITH THE 



NATURE, USES, AND DESTINY OF MAN 



ILLUSTRATED BY 



TWO OR THREE HUNDRED CHOICE ANECDOTES 5 

THREE THOUSAND ORATORICAL AND POETICAL READINGS J FIVE THOUSAND 

PROVERBS, MAXIMS AND LACONICS, AND SEVERAL HUNDRED 

ELEGANT ENGRAVINGS. 



BY PROF. BRONSON, A. M., M. D. 



FORTY-THIRD THOUSAND. 

8E71SSD A.SD CORRECTED, WITH LARGE ADDITIONS, ORIGINAL AND SELECTED DLALOO0ES ASD 

SPEECHES, WHICH ARE COPT-RIGHTED. 



LOUISVILLE, KY.: 
MORTON & GRISWOLD. 

BOSTON: 
OTIS CLAPP, CROSBY & NICHOLS, PHILLIPS, SAMPSON & CO 



TN4IU 

,37 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THIS SYSTEM. 

Some yeats ago, the Author was extensively engaged as a Public Speaker 
and, in consequence of the habit of speaking, principally, with the muscles of 
the throat and breast, he finally broke down, — failing senseless, after speaking 
about an hour and a half: that was followed by a protracted illness ; during 
which, he providentially discovered the Causes, and also the Remedies, of the dif- 
ficulties under which he had labored; and now, for months in succession, by the 
aid of these principles, he often speaks from six to ten hours a day, without the 
least inconvenience: the principal cause of which is, that the effort is made 
from the dorsal and abdominal region. Few are aware of the comprehensive 
nature of the principles here partially unfolded ; and probably the Author would 
now be in a similar state, had it not been for the teachings afforded by children 
and Indians. To secure a perfectly healthy distribution of the vital fluids 
throughout the body, and a free and powerful activity of the mind, there must 
be a full and synchronous action in the brain, the lungs, and the viscera of the 
abdomen ; the soul operating, naturally, on the dorsal and abdominal muscles, 
and thus setting in motion the whole body. 

That he was the first to teach the specific use of those muscles, for a healthy 
breathing, and the exercise of the vocal organs, as well as blowing on wind in- 
struments for hours together, without injury, he has not the least doubt; and, if 
any person will produce evidence to the contrary, from any medical writer, or 
teacher of elocution, previous to 1830, he shall be handsomely rewarded. The 
time is fast approaching, when this, and its kindred subjects, will be duly ap- 
preciated; and it will be seen and felt, that without a practical knowledge of 
these important principles, no one can become a successful speaker, or teacher : 
and the opinion is advisedly expressed, that they will produce as great a revo- 
lution in regard to the promotion of health, the art of reading and speaking with 
science and effect, and the perfect development and cultivation of mind, voice, 
and ear, — as the discovery of the mariner's compass, or the invention of the 
steam engine, in navigation, manufacture, and travel ; — and, to be the medium 
of introducing such a system, by which so many thousands have been greatly 
benefited, and hundreds of lives saved, is the occasion of devout gratitude to the 
Infinite Author of all that is good and true. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1845, by C. P. Bronboit, 
In the Clerk's office for the District Court of Kentucky. 



Printed by Morton & Griiwold, Louisville, Kjr 



By ^Transfer 
Geological Survey 

DEC 8 1932 



Testimonials and References , |tlon, combined with ether causes, oroduccd broncfo 

Five classes were formed in the Academical de- ti8 - fr ? m w ' lich ' »»to been suffering more than 18 

partment of Yale College,and three in the Theolog-i™ 01 "' 1 "- . By your directions, I can speak and sir* 

ical Department. The following is an extract from free1 ^ without irritating my threat My voice haa 

the testimonials of the latter: its natural tone and compass; and I have the de- 



Resalved, That we consider his system exceeding- 
ly well adapted to develop arid train the voice, and 
give expression to the passions ; and we believe it 
calculated to promote the health of public speakers. 
Being persuaded that we have derived essential ad- 
vantage from his instructions, we hereby express 
our thanks for the assiduity and skill with which he 
has directed us in our practice, and most cordially 
recommend him to the patronage of all who would 
cultivate their voices with a view to public speaking. 
Extract — From Professors of Princeton College 
and Theological Seminary, N. J. — We have had good 
opportunities for witnessing the success of Mr Bron- 
6on. His method of using the organs of speech with 
most advantage, is preferable to any we have known 
lie is distinguished from other teachers of elocution 
by the fact, that instead of trying to impart his own 
style of declamation, he aims at cultivating the voice, 
and then leaves the pupil to nature. 

Extract. — From the Rev. Mr. Bingham, Marietta, 
O. to Professor Stuart, Andover, Mass.—" Will you 
permit me to introduce to your acquaintance,' Prof 
Bronson, a popular and successful Lecturer on Elo- 
cution. He has been lor some time past, lecturing 
to the Professors and students in this College. As 
a Lecturer on Elocution I have never seen his supe- 
rior. Our Professors, who have been under the in- 
struction of Dr Barber, say the same. He has made 
his subject one of very thorough study— and, what 
is best of all, lie has studied Suture. 

Extract —From the Facultv of Marretta College, 
Ohio. — " Prof. Bronson has just closed a very suc- 
cessful course oi instruction on Elocution in this in- 
stitution. The principles which he teaches appear 
to be founded on a philosophical view of man. His 
illustrations are copious and pertinent; and in his la- 
bors to train the voice and develop and cultivate 
the affections and passions he is indefatigable. His 
whole course cf instruction is marked by a rigid 
deference to Natnrc, and is truly simple and unaf- 
fected. We take pleasure in recommending him to 
an intelligent community. 

Prop Bronson is a gentleman of much original 
ity of thought, extensive reading and remarkable 
powers. His Lectures, beyond the charm of novel- 
ty, are very interesting. — Albany Evening Journal. 
We warmly recommend i'rof. Bronson's reading 
and recitations to the attention of all those who are 
partial to effectual and powerful elocution. They 
are an excellent substitute for dramatic exhibitions 
—Daily Signul. N. Y 

We feel anxious that a knowledge of Mr. Bronson's 
pecular views should be extended, believing them 
highly important, not only in juvenile education, 
but to the professional speakei. — National Gazette, 
Philadelphia. 

Prof. Bronson's new theory in relation to the sci- 
ence of Elocution, is, in our judgment, founded in 
truth, the author being a practical illustration of the 
soundness of his doctrine. — Oneida Whig. (Utica) 
N. Y. 

From the Philadelphia Daily V/orld. 
We render no more than justice in pronouncing 
Prof Bronson's Recitations the best we ever heard. 
His recitation of '' The Maniac, " by Lewis, was 
terrific. We never before saw confirmed, hopeless 
raving insanity so thorougly counterfeited by any 
actor. In the' course of his recitations he explains 
his discoveries (for such they are,) in Elocution. 

From the Rev Mr. Cook, of Hartford, Conn , 
who received only twelve lessons. 

Pro? Bronson— Dear Sir— My Physician, Dr. 
Sherwood, of N. Y., directed me to you for aid in 
recovering the use of my voice. A habit of speaking 
solely wi'tr. the muscles of my breast and throat, 
attributable in part at least to Dr Barbers instruc- 



lightful prospect of soon resuming my accustomed 
labors 

" Professor Bronson's Recitations are the best we 
ever heard." — National Intelligencer. 

Prof Bronson's Lectures and Recitations, have 
given universal delight.— Louisville Journal. 

" The Recitations of Mr. Bronson. are almost per- 
fect." — Baltimore Atheneum and Visitor. 

" Mr. Bronson's success has been most complete. 
— U. S. Gazette. 



" Mr. B. exhibits with surprising ease and power 
the wonderful capabilities of the human voice, and 
illustrates convincingly the practibility and impor- 
tance of cultivating its powers — Teachers, public 
speakers, and the youth of both sexes, should avail 
themselves of this opportunity." — Neizark Adv. 

41 His superior as a speaker, we have yet to meet, 
eitherat the bar, in the pulpit, or on the lloor of a 
legislative body."— Ohio Stale Journal, Culumbus. 

A lady, (Mrs. G. of Boston,) says — "Having been 
much injured by tight lacing when very young and 
also by keeping in a bent position at school for years, 
I was bent forward in such a manner as to suppose 
I was afflicted with permanent distortion of the spine. 
Still I resolved io join the class, and prove the truth 
or falsehood of professor B's. predictions, that I 
should become straight by faithfully att^iidin* to 
the principles. In a few days Iwas restored.'' 

Extract —Letter from a distinguished lady in 
Coston. -'Prof. Bronson ; Sir — I wish to express to 
you mv grateful acknowledgements for the great 
benefit! have received from your system. I have 
for many years been afflicted with extreme weakness 
of the lungs, which fatigue, either in exercise, con- 
versation or reading, produced not only hoarseness, 
but loss of voice I have found, upon trial, my ex- 
pectations more than realized I can now, with per* 
feet ease, converse, or read aloud, hour after liour 
without the least latigue. 

At the close of his Lectures in the Apollo, the 
following resolution was unanimously adopted by a 
crowded house cf ticket-holders : 

Resolved, That the thanks of the members of this 
meeting be presented to Prof. Bronson for his 
successful efforts (in connection with Mr. F. H. 
Nash, his Assistant,) to interest, amuse and instruct 
thern. They conclude, by expressing their high ad- 
miration of Prof Bronson's sincerity, zeal and abi- 
lity in the cause of truth and humanity, and tende- 
ring to him their best wishes, that success and 
prosperity may attend him in his noble and gene- 
rous enterprise. AMOS BELDEN, Chairman. 

E. Parmly, Secretary-- 

At a meeting of the Classes, the Rev. Charles 
G. Sommers, Chairman, and Dr Amos Johnson, 
Secretary, the following Resolution was unani- 
mously adopted: 

Resolved, That the Ladies and Gentlemen, who 
have attended a series of Lessons and Lectures, by 
Prof. Bronson, on Elocution, Music and Physiolo- 
gy, feel great pleasure in expressing their high 
sense of his urbanity, uncompromising regard for 
truth, as the basis of Religion and sound Philoso- 
phy ; as well as their entire belief that his method 
of imparting knowledge is as natural and interest- 
ing, as it is novel; and that it is admirably calcula- 
ted to promote the health of the Body, and the im- 
provement of the Mind. The Classes desire also to 
express their indebtedness to Mr Nash, Prof. E.'s 
accomplished Associate, whose critical knowledge 
of Vocal Science, so happily connected with un- 
usual Melody and Power of Voice, eminently qual 
fies him for an Instructor in Music. 



PREFACE 

TO THE FIFTH EDITION 



In this work, the Author has given some of the results of his study and 
practice, in the department of Mental and Vocal Philosophy, for the last 
fifteen years. Persons, who are familiar with the subjects discussed, can 
see how much he is indebted to books, and how much to investigation and 
experience. Whatever is good and true in it, belongs to all ; for it is 
from above. If there be anything false and evil, the Author holds him- 
self responsible for it. His endeavor has been, to furnish a book, which 
may be useful to every one. He believes that a greater variety will be 
found in this, than in any other work on the subject; — a variety, too, which 
will induce deep and careful thinking, and right feeling ; and which tends 
directly, to the end in view, to wit : the development and application, of 
those principles of Mind and Voice, which the Author has been engaged 
in practicing and teaching, in our principal towns and cities, and Institutions 
of Learning : notices of which may be seen among the accompanying tes- 
timonials. 

This work is an abridgment of what the Author has written, in three 
connected, yet separate volumes, as yet unpublished, embracing the sub- 
jects of Body and Mind, their natures, relations, and destinies : the work, 
next in order, is Physiology and Psychology, which, it is expected, will 
be published the coming year. 

One reason why no more quotations are made from the Bible is, that the 
Sacred Volume is nearly ready for the press, — prepared with such a no- 
tation as will aid the reader, to pronounce and emphasize it, at sight — it 
being both a Pronouncing and Rhetorical Bible : it was commenced sev- 
eral years ago, at the request of clergymen and others, who have attended 
the Author's Biblical Readings and Recitations ; and would probably have 
been laid before the public before this, but for the destruction of a portion 
of it by fire. 

The following work is now "cast upon the waters" in a stereotyped 
form, not likely soon to be changed. An affectionate Teacher's kindest 
regards to his Pupils, and respects to a candid and generous public. 

New York, 1845. 



PHYSIOLOGICAL INTRODUCTION, 



t. Ererv Art, and Science, has its Externals, 
and its Internals, its Generals and Particulars; 
which must be understood Analytically, and Syn- 
thetically, if we would practice either successful- 
ly. The Internals of Elocution, are Thoughts 
ant Feelings, and its Externals comprise all that 
is sxldressed to our five senses : its Generals are 
Mind and Body, with their various Languages, 
or modes of manifestation. Comparatively, Lan- 
guage—is the Tune, Body— the Instrument, and 
Mind— the Performer: hence, the necessity of 
becoming acquainted, theoretically and practi- 
cally, with their Natures, Relations and Uses. 

2. As the subjects of Mind and Language, 
are partially unfolded in the following work, in 
this part, something must be said of the Body, 
the harp of ten thousand strings : particularly in 
regard to structure, position, and the organs to be 
used for the production and modification of 
sounds, in Speech and Song : also of Gestures, 
or Actions ; illustrated by appropriate Engravings, 
whch may be imitated by the Pupil, for the pur- 
pose of bringing the Body into subjection to the 
Mii/1; without, however, any reference to spe- 
eific Recitations,— lest he should become artifi- 
cia , instead of natural. 

3. The more we contemplate Man, the more 
we see and feel the truth, that he is a Microcosm 
indeed ; a minature-world. — an abstract of crea- 
tion,— an epitome of the universe,— a finite repre- 
lemalion of the Infinite Deity ! Well saith the 
lesthen motto, " Know thyself !" and the poet— 

" The proper study of mankind — is Man." 
And it may truly be said, that there is nothing 
•" the Mineral, Vegetable and Animal Kingdoms, 
S-tt cannot be found, essentially, in the human 
^*.y ; and nothing in the world of Mind, that is 
wot riiadowed forth in his spiritual nature: hence, 
6>e grandeur, the magnificence — of our subjects, 
and ouv objects. 

4. The three grand essentials of the Body pro- 
per, are the Osseus, or bony system, which fixes 
its form, and gives it stability : the Muscular, or 
fleshy system, which is designed to act on the 
Ossseus ; and Nervous system, acting on the Mus- 
cular : while the Mind, acts on and through the 
Nervous ; receiving its life and power from Him. 
who is emphatically "THE LIFE :•" thus, we can 
took through Nature, up to Nature's God. Ob- 
serve, the Analytical course is from outermosts to 
Innermosts, from effects to causes ; and the Syn- 
thetical progress from innermosts to outermosts ; 
or from causes to effects. 

5. Nerves of Organic Life. Every thing 
must have a beginning : and nothing is made per- 
fect at once. Now in the body, there is a cer- 
tain portion, ca'lod Nerves of Organic Life ; be- 
cause they we *he fist formed, and constitute 
lis granC mv^t, ♦iuo*,Th which the soul builds 



up the Bbdy, with the materials, furnished t r ths 

external world. The Soul is the architect, and 

the body 



its 

workmanship. 
Here is a good 

representation of 
this nervcus 

mass, which is a 
kind of brain, 
(or series of 
brain,) that pre- 
sides over those 
glands, or work- 
shops, that take 
charge of the 
food, digest it, 
and watch over 
its changes, till 
it is made into 
blood, and then 
appropriated to 
the body. The 
nervous centre, 
called Semilunar 
Ganglion and So 
lar Plexus, may 
be seen at a,a,a, 
a; it is situated 
under the dia- 
phragm and part- 
ly behind the 
stomach : other 
subordinate cen- 
tres may be seen 
at e, e, e, e; also 
in other places, 
that need not be 
designated, as 
they are very 
numerous : these 
centres are like 
miner posts in a 
state, or king- 
dom. At i, is 
seen a pair of 
chords, called trisplanchnic nerves : and at o, o, 
are seen other nerves, with their little brains, oi 
centres, where they come together, forming a line 
along the spir.e, from the bottom of the chest, u 
the top of the neck. From this large collection 
of Organic Nerves, others proceed to every par, 
of the system, uniting in smaller centres, and 
forming ganglions in the palms of the hands, 
balls of the fingers, &c. Our Astronomical sys- 
tem is called the Solar System, because the Sun 
is its centre, watching over our planets ; so, of 
these nervous centres of the grand and smallei 
departments cf our miniature-universe. Owing 
to the intimate connection of these nerves wilt- 




▼I 



PHYSIOLOGICAL INTRODUCTION. 



their numerous centres, and with lhe nerves of 
the whole body, they are sometimes called lhe 
Graal S\ mpathet.e Nerves, and Nerves of Vege- 
table Life. There are three orders of these 
Nerves: one going to the blood-vessels and other 
{'arts of the vascular system ; one to the contrac- 
tile tissues or muscles of involuntary motion: 
and oxe to the nerves of organic sensation, con- 
**yini lhe unpjcssions made on the organs. 

a 




6 In this view of the Nerves of Respiration, 
(originating in the Medulla Oblongata, which is an 
extension of the Cerebellum, (&,) or seat of Volun- 
tary .Motion, and of the Cerebrum, (a.) or seat of 
Rationality.) may be seen the nerve (c.) that goes 
to the Diaphragm ( i.) and is concerned in the office 
cf breathing, which generally acts without the aid 
of the Will ; but yet is controllable by the "Will, to 
a certain extent; for we may breathe fast or slow, 
long or short. Next above this, is the Spinal Ac- 
cessory Nerve, used in moving the breast, &c, in 
respiration ; one of its fellow roots goes to the 
tongue (d.) and is concerned in mastication, swal- 
lowing, speaking, &c. [Some nerves are thrown 
back, the better to be seen.] Next in order is the 
pneuinosgastric, or lungs-and-stomach nerve (/, 
g. A,) which sends a branch to the meat-pipe, la- 
rynx and wind-pipe, («,) aiso to the cardiac, or 
brast plexus, just above, and a little at the right 
•f l£) f a recurrent branch goes to lhe larynx. Sec; 
urner branches go to the face- toexhibit the feelings. 
All interweave, and bring the vocal organs into 
nnportant relations with the heart and lungs, with 
feelings and thoughts; while the main body goes 
V tlie etornac!', and unites wi:b the great c mtre 



oforgamclife,or solar plexus. The roetsof :heM 
nerves are in the cerebellum, the seat of motion, 
a receptacle of life. Now, we see why intensity 
of thought, carking cares, &c, impede respiration, 
and infringe on the laws of health, for want of the 
proper co-operation with lhe nerves of organic 
life; inducing dyspepsia, and even consumption, 
hence, the painful mode of teaching children to 
read by a book : away with this false system, un- 
less you would inhumanly sacrifice tho rising gen- 
eration on the altar of evil ; let the e&r. or righ; 
feeling predominate: please work out the whole; 
for you can do it: a hint is sufficient for rtiose who 
Ihink. 




7. Here is an excellent representation oi the 
Nerves of Voluntary Motion, and of Sense, which, 
wilh lhe nerves of Organic Life, and the Respira- 
tory' Nerves, constitute the inmosts of the bodyj 
also, a posterior, or back view, of the two brains, 
which is the seat of the PJind, the constituents of 
which, are Will and Understanding. The lettei 
c, indicates the cerebrum, or large brain, where 
the Understanding, Rationality, or thought is lo- 
cated; and cv, lhe cerebellum, or little brain, 
under, and adjoining the cerebrum, where tb* 



PHYSIOLOGICAL INTRODUCTION. 



▼ll 



Mr.ionUl black line is: here is the seat of the 
Wiil, Affections, Passions or Emotions ; also the 
geat of the Motive power of the body ; and from 
these proceed the spinal marrow, (me,) enveloped 
in three different membranes, lying in the hollow 
of the back bone, and branching off by thirty pairs 
of spinal nerves into a great many ramifications 
over every part of the body; pb, the brachial 
plexus, a reunion or assemblage of the different 
nerves distributed to the arms, or upper extremities; 
and ps, the plexus, or folds of nerves, that form 
the great sciatic nerves, descending to the legs, 
or lower extremities. From the spinal marrow, 
the lerves arise by two sets, or bundles of roots ; 
the front (anterior,) one serving for motion, and 
the back (posterior,) are the nerves of feeling, or 
sensibility. Now, in all voluntary actions of the 
body, whether reading, speaking, singing, or 
working, there should be a perfect harmony and 
co-operation of the Organic Nerves, Respiratory 
Nerves, and Motary Nerves; hence, the volun- 
tary effort must be made from the abdomen, where 
is the great centre of Organic Nerves, in connec- 
tion with those of Respiration. 

8. Here is a 
striking view 
of the Muscu- 
lar, or fleshy 
portions, that 
form the me- 
dium of com- 
tnunication 
between the 
Nerves and 
the Bones : 
there are sev- 
eral hundreds, 
acting on tl.e 
bones like 
ropes on the 
masts of slips: 
let them be 
trained in per- 
fect subjection 
to the Soiix, 
through h-> 
Mind ; so tiat 
whatever is 
felt & thougit, 
maybebodhd 
forth to the lie. 
Now let us pat 
these thrte 
systems, tic 
Nerves, Mus- 
cles aid 
Bones, togetl- 
3r, and coi- 
Vemplate th« 
whole as t 
unit, bound uj 
m the skin 
and acting h 
obedie . , ta "ightful owner, the Mind; while 
lhat m. - ; v, bservie.it to the Creator of mind. 




9. We now descend to the Kara parti of th« 
body, which have the least of life in them. Tliic 
is a very correct representation of the Osscoua 
system, or the bony parts which moy be aptly 




called the basis, or foundation, of the splendid 
temple we live in; which is three stories high; 
viz. the cavity below the diaphragm, the one above 
it, and the skull. Examine, minutely, each part, 
the situation and attachment of the different bones 
of the head, the five short ribs, and the seven long 
ones, the breast-bone, &c. In a complete human 
frame, there are 250 bones: they afford us the 
means of locomotion. Do you see any analogy 
between the body and language ? 

10. Zoology— (the doctrine or science of life,) 
is a necessary element of education. Whose cu- 
riosity has not been excited by the innumerable 
living beings, and things, with which we are sur- 
rounded? Is it not desirable to scrutinize their 
interiors, and see how they are made, and under- 
stand their various uses? Look at a man, a fish, 
a spider, an oyster, a plant, a stone ; observe their 
differences, in many respects, and their similan ■ 
ties in others: they all have essence, form, use. 
The tendency of the study of the three kingdoms 
of nature, the Animal, Vegetable, and Mineral., 



▼Ill 

it to emancipate the huninn mind from the dark- 
new and slavery of ignorance, into the light and 
M>erty of rational humanity. The things of the 
Animal kingdom live, and move from an interior 
power; those of the Vegetable kingdom grow; 
and those of the Mineral kingdom do not live or 
grow ; they simply exist. 

11. Three objects are designed by this erjgra- 
ving: first, to show the body, clothed in its own 
beautiful envelop, the skin, which is the conti- 
nent of our most wonderful piece of Mechanism : 
■econd, to call attention to the fact, that it is full 
ef pores, or little holes, through which passes out 
«f our systems more than half of what we eat 



PHYSIOLOGICAL INTRODUCTION. 




and. drink, in the form of what is called insensi- 
ble oerspiration, which is indicated by the cloudy 
mist, emanating from every part of the surface ; 
and as our bodies wear out, by degrees, and are 
renewed every seven years, and the skin being 
the principal evacuating medium for the worn-out 
particles of the system; the great importance 
of keeping it in a clean, and consequent healthy 
condition, by daily washing in soft cold water, 
must be evident to every one of reflection, it be- 
ing the 6afety-valve of the body : and thirdly, to 
indicate a higher truth, that of the passing off of 
a subtle and invisible fluid from the mind, in ac- 
cordance with its 6tate ; which is often perceived 
when certain persons are present; also when 
powerful speakers are pouring forth their highly 
wrought affections, and brilliant thoughts ; so as 
to give the mind a kind of ubiquity, co-extensive 
with their tones and audible words, ruling im- 
mense audiences with absolute sway, and de- 
monstrating the power of truth and eloquence. 

Animals and Plants increase by nutrition: 
Minerals by accretion. In infancy, we weigh 
but a few pounds: at adult age, we erceed one 
hundred pounds. Whence, but from foreign sub- 
stances, are the materials of which our organs 
are composed? In sickness, extreme emaciation 
proves that our bodies may lose a portion of their 
bulk, and give baik to the world what was once 
us own. Thus, cctrpositiaa and decomposition, 



constituting the nutritiv* funct «m of witch living 
bodies are the centre, are revealed to us by evi- 
dences too plain to be misunderstood : may we have 
power to appreciate them, being assured that all 
truths are in perfect harmony with each other. 

13. Here is a representation of the Human 
Form clothed and engaged in some of the uses 
of Elocution. But it i« necessary to enter mom 




into the particulars of our subject; whi;h :s Join 
in the succeeding parts of this introducton : how- 
ever, let the reader bear in mind, that oily the out- 
lines of subjects are given in the booi, designed 
for such as are determined to dig fo; truth and 
eternal principles, as for hidden treasures ; 
whose motto is " Press On." 

Animals and Plants endure for a time, and 
under specific forms, by making tie exte-nal 
world a part of their own being ; i. t. they have 
the power imparted to them of self-iourishment, 
and when this outward supply ceases they die, 
having completed their term of duraion : hence, 
death, to material existences, is a ne;essary coi> 
sequence of life. Not so with minerils: they ex- 
ist so long as external forces do not wstroy them : 
and if they increase, it is simply bj the juxtapo- 
sition of other bodies; and if they (jminish, it is 
by the action of a force, or power, from with- 
out. Has not every thing its circe? How in- 
teresting must be the history of al things, ani- 
mate and inanimate ! Oh that we hid eyes to see, 
and ears to hear, every thing that is manifested 
around us, within us, and above us. 

13. If we would have the M't^d act on tk* 
Body, and the Body react on the Mind, in an o*> 



PHYSIOLOGICAL INTRODUCTION. 



IX 



derly, and, consequently, beneficial manner, it is 
necessary that the body be in a natural and up- 
rif.it position. The following engraving repre- 
sents the Thorax, or Chest, which contains the 
Peart and Lungs ; and reason teaches, that no or- 
guis should be in the least infringed upon, either 
ly compressions, or by sitting in a bent position. 
The Luiigs are reservoirs for the air, out of which 
we raako sounds, by condensation. All are fami- 
liar with the hand-bellows: observe the striking 
between it and the body, in the act of 
, singing and blowing. The wind-pipe is 
.ike its ,iosle, the lungs like the sides, and the ab- 
and dorsal muscles', like Us handles ; of 
course, to blow with ease and power, one must 
take hold of the handles: to speak and sing right, 
the lower muscles must be used ; for there is only 
one right way of doing anything. 

Larynx, . . . 



Wind-pipe, . . . 

Collar bone, . . 
Bronchia, . . . 
Heart & Lungs, 

7 Long Ribs, . . 
Diaphragm, . . . 
5 Short Ribs, . . 
Dorsal and 
Abdominal 
Muscles 




1-4. This is a view of a well developed and 
naturally proportioned chest ; with space for the 
.wigs, the short ribs thrown outwardly, affording 
ample room for the free action of the organs : it is 
the true model of the form of one who would live 
to a good old age. 

15. Tight Dbessins. No one can enjoy good 
health, or perform any kind of labor with ease, or 
read, speak, or sing, when the thorax is habitual- 
ly compressed. It diminishes the capacity of the 
lungs, for receiving the necessary quantity of air 
to purify the blood, and prevents the proper action 
of the diaphragm. The following engraving shows 
the alarming condition of the chest, when com- 
presf ed by tight lacing ; a practice that has hur- 
ried, and is now hurrying, hundreds of thousands 
to a premature grave ; besides entailing upon the 
offspring an accumulation of evils, too awful to 
contemplate. What is the difference between 
killing one's self in five minutes with a razor, and 
doing it in five years by tight lacing, or any other 
bad habit ? Our clothing should never be so tight 
as to prevent the air from coming between it and 
the body. 

16. Here follows an outline of the chest, or 
thorax of a female, showing the condition of the 
bones of the body, as they appear after death, in 
every one who has habitually worn stays and 
eorst ts, enforced by tight lacing. ' But,' says one, 

I do not lace too tight.' If you lace at all, you 
most certainly do, and will, sooner or later, expe- 





rience the dreadful consequi nces. OI<3erve, aH 
the short ribs, from the lower end of the breast- 
bone, are unnaturally cramped inwardly toward 
the spine, so that 
the liver, stomach, 
and other digestive 
organs in that vici- 
nity, are pressed 
in, C CU-'.. a small 
compass, that their 
funcUons are great- 
ly interrupted, and 
all the vessels, 
bones and viscera are more cr less distorted art! 
enfeebled. Cease to do evil, and learn to do wefl. 

IT. This engraving, 
of a bell-shaped glass, 

C, C, shows how the 
air gets into the lungs, 
and some of its effects. 
A head is placed on 
the cork, T, represent- 
ing the wind-pipe, and 
having a hole through 
it. L, represents a 
bladder, tied to the 
lower end of the cork, 
to indicate a lung. At 

D, is seen the dia- 
phragm. The cavity 
of the bell represents 

the Inside of the thorax, where the heart and lungs 
are : there is no communication with the external 
air, except through the hole in the cork ; air, en- 
tering through that hole, can go oniy into the blad- 
der. Now, when the centre of the diaphragm is 
raised to D, the bladder will be flaccid and devoid 
of air ; but when it is dropped, to the situation of 
the dotted line, a tendency to a vacuum will be 
the consequence, which can be supplied with tir, 
only through the hole in the cork ; the air expand- 
ing the bladder to its full extent, is shown by the 
dotted circle, around L ; and when the diaphragm 
is elevated again, the air will be forced from the 
bladder; thus, the lungs are inflated and exhaus- 
ted by this alternate operation of the diaphragm, 
and of the contraction and elongation of the ab- 
dominal muscles ; hence, the comparison between 
the vocal organs proper, and a pair of bellows, is 
distinctly seen. 

Muscular Action. These 
two engravings represent some 
muscular fibres in two states: 
the upper one at rest, with a re- 
laxed nervous filament ramified through the fibres, 
as seen under the microscope •, and the lower one in 
a state of contraction, and the fi- 
brr s in zigzag lines, with a simi- 
lar nervous filament passing ovci 
them: apply the principle to all 
muscles. The subject might be greatly extended; 
but for further infcnr.ation, see the Author's large 
work on Physiology and Psychology, which will 
be published as soon as convenient, 





PHYSIOLOGICAL INTRODUCTION. 



18. Here is a representation of the Air Cells 
.1 the filing!, laiil open unil highly magnified. 
The body is formed by Blood, which consists of llie 
nutritious portions 
of our food, ami 
it in the form of 
very snia.l glob- 
ules, or little 
round balls: a 
representation of 
which is here pre- 
sented as seen 
through a micro- 
scope, magnified 
one thousand 

#t i mes. 
Every 
three 
or four 
minutes, as a gen- 
eral rule, the 
blood flows thro'- 
out the whole 
body ; and, of 
course, through 
the lungs, where 
it undergoes a purification: hence maybe seen 
the importance of an upright position, and perfect 
inflation of the lungs ; no one can live out his 
days without them. 

19. Here are two attitudes, sitting, and stand- 
ing, passive and active. Beware of too much 





stiffness, and too much laxity, of the muscles; be 
natural and easy. Avoid leaning backwards or 
forwards, to the right or left: and especially, of 
restin? vour head on your hand, with the elbow 
on something' else: by which practice, many 
have caused a projection of one shoulder, indu- 
ced spinal affections, &c. Beware of every thing 
that is improper: such as trying how much you 
can lift with one hand, &c. 

580. I lere follows a representation of the position 
of the diaphragm, and illustrations of its actions, 
in exhaling and inhaling. Figure 1, in the left 
engraving, represents the diaphragm in its great- 
est descent, when we draw in our breath : 2, mus- 
cles of the abdomen, when protruded to their full 
extent, in inhaling : 1, in the right engraving, the 
diaphragm in its greatest ascent in expiration: 2, 
ihe nuscl ■& of the abdomen in action, forcing the 



viscera and diaphragm upwards: the lungs co- 
operate with the diaphragm and abdominal mus- 
cles; or rather, the soul, mind, nerves and mis. 
cles act unitedly, and thence with ease, grace a ,d 
effect. Observe, the Stomach, Liver, &c. are be- 
low the diaphragm, and are dependent on it, in a 
measure, for their actions. 




581. Here is a view of the Heart, nearly sur- 
rounded by the Lungs, with the different blood- 
vessels going to, and from them: these organs are 
shown partially separated ; tho' when in their nat« 
ural positions, they are quite compact together. 




and wholly fill up the cavity of the chest : every 
one has two hearts, for the two different kinds of 
blood, and each heart has two rooms: a, right 
auricle, that receives all the blood from every part 
of the body, through the vena cava, or large vein, 
which is made up of the small veins, e, e, e, e, «/ 
it thence passes into the right ventricle, t, thence 
into both lungs, where it is purified; after which 
it passes into the left auricle, and left ventricle, 
then into the aorta, o, and the carotid and subcla- 
vian arteries (u, and v,) to every part of lli3 body * 
returning every three or four minutes. 



ORATORICAL AND POETICAL GESTURES 



XI 



22. This engraving represents the larynx, or 
vocal box, at 1, near the top of the wind-pipe, 2; 
the bronchial 
tubes, or 

branches of 
the trachea, 
3, 4, going tc 
eaeh lung ; 
the left lung is 
whale ; the 
substance of 
the right one 
is removed, to 
show the ra- 
mifications ot \ 
the bronchial ^ 
twigs, termi- 
nating in the 
air-cells, 7, 7, 
8, like leaves 
on the trees. 
The bronchi- 
al tubes are 
the three 

branches of 
the wind- 
pipe, and enter the lungs about one third of the 
distance from the upper end : hence, how foolish 
for persons having a sore throat, or larynx, to sup- 
pose they have the bronchitis ; which consists in 
a diseased state of the bronchia ; generally brought 
on by an improper mode of breathing, or speak- 
ing, &c, with exposure. The remedy may be 
found in the practice here recommended, with a 
free use of cold soft water over the whole body, 
and bandages wet with the same, placed about 
the chest and neck, to be removed every few 
.lours, as they become dry. 




24:. Here is a front view of the Vocal Organs . 

e is the top of the wind-pipe, and within and a 

little above d is the larynx, or vocal box, where 
all voice sounds are 
made : the two 
horns at the top, rep- 
resent the upper ex- 
tremities of the thy- 
^■1 roid cartilage: the 

tubes up and down, 
and transverse, are 
blood-vessels : be- 
ware of having 
anything tigh 
around the neck, 
also of bending the 

neck much, impeding the free circulation of the 

blood, and determining it to the head. 

ORATORICAL AND POETICAL ACTION. 

Positions of Feet and Hands. 





Kijm 





23. Here is a horizontal view of the Glottis : 

'. are the arytenoid cartilages, connected 

. the chordse vocales, (vocal cords, or liga- 

s.) T, V, stretching across from the top of the 

noid to the point of the thyroid cartilage : 

taeje. ends can be elongated, and enlarged topro- 

!ower somvis, and contracted and diminished 

tgher ones: and, at the same time, separated 

each other, and allowing more conden- 

air to pass for the former purposes ; or brought 

:er together, to favor the latter : there are a 

it many muscles attached to the larynx, to 

5 variety to the modifications of voice in 

;ch and song. 




til 



ORATORICAL AND POETICAL GESTURES. 














ORATORICAL AND POETICAL GESTURES. 



XIII 




xiv 



ORATORICAL AND POETICAL GESTURES. 











ORATORICAL AND POETICAL GESTURES. 



XV 


















XVI 



ORATORICAL AND POETICAL GESTURES. 








^r\ 




Notes. The Elocutionary Engravings are de- 
signed for studies ; they involve every variety of 
Thought and Feeling, and their modes of manifes- 
tation: some are to be imitated, others avoided, 
because of their awkwardness : judge ye. The 
dotted lines show the directions the hands have 
taken, till brought to their present position. Some 
paragraphs are transposed, and extra ones intro- 
duced, the better to accommodate the engraving*. 
See the Passions. Sex:., for further information. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



17 



1. This ststem. unfolds the true Philoso- 
phy of Mind a\id Voice, in accordance with 
the nature of Man, and the structure of Lan- 
guage. 1 he Elements are first presented ; 
then, the common comb^ na.^na, followed by 
the rr>^-~ -icfficuit ones; all of which are to be 
practiced in concert, and individually, after 
the Teacher. These exercises essentially aid 
in cultivating the Voice and Ear, for all the 
objects of Speech and Song .• while the Prin- 
ciple! and Practice tend to develop and per- 
fect both mind and body, agreeably to the 
Laics, that should govern them. The Vowels 
must first be mastered, then the Consonants ; 
and the exercises interspersed with reading, 
and rigid criticism on the Articulation and 
Pronunciation. 

N. B. The words printed iu italics and CAPITALS, are more or 
.ess emphatic; though other words may be made so, according to 
the de«_red effect : the dash (— ) indicates a pause for inhalation : 
connecting words are sometimes excepted. 

2. A nas four regular sounds : First, 
Name sound, or long: ALE; 
ate, a-zure; rare c-pri-eots; 
scarce jwz-tri-ots ; fair brace- 
lets for ta-tcnt mus-ta-ches; 
hai-ry m-a-gi and sa-pi-ent lit- 
er-a-t: for pa-trons ; wa-tion-al 
-a-ter-er for ra-di-a-ted sta- 
mens, and sa-Ii-ent pas-try with the ha-lo 
gra-tls ; the ra-tion-al plain-tiff tears the cam- 
bric, and dares the stairs for the sa-vor of 
<m-sins; they drain the cane-brakes and take 
he bears by the nape of the neck ; the may-or's 
3ray-er to Mayn-ton Sayre is — to be-ware of 
he snares pre-por'd for the matron's shares : 
t-men has both syllables accented; but it 
diould never be pronounced aA-men (2d a,) 
aor aw-men. 




3. Position. Sit, or stand erect, with the 
shoulders thrown back, so as to expand the 
chest, prevent the body from bending, and 
facilitate full and deep breathing. Open the 
■■riouth wide enough to admit two fingers, 
»ide-wise, between the teeth, and keep the 
} ips free and limber, that the sounds may 
f ow with clearness and precision ,• nor let 
t \ere be too much, nor too little moisture in 
t \e mouth. A piece of hard wood, or ivory, 
o a inch, or an inch and a half long, of the 
r^zc of a pipe-stem, with a notch in each end, 
if placed between the teeth, perpendicularly, 
v^ile practicing, will be found very useful in 
Acquiring the habit of opening wide the mouth. 

4:. E has this sound in certain words; among 
which are the following ere, ere.-long ; feint 
heirs; the Aei-nous Bey pm-cet/s a ho-quet; 
(bo-foi ;) they Vein their prey in its ey-rv, and 
pay their freight by weight ; Acy-dey ! o-b'cy the 
eyre, and do o-ftet-sancj to the Dev ; they sit 
tete-a-tate (ta-'tah-tate,l at trey: 'also, there 
and where, in all their compounds,— there-af, 
there -bit, there-fore, there-m, there -ow, there- 
mHk , where-at, where- by, whert -fore, where- I 

B tt.ONSOJT. o 



o, i^Hbn- 

; thee more 



in, where-on, where-tokh, etc. : also, 
traction of ever and never,— as whe 
where-e'er I am. T »#W shall see tliee more, 
"iiow mest is he, who ne'er consents, By ill ad- 
vice to walk." 

Anecdote. Plaiu — defines man — "An 
animal, having two legs, and so feathers." 
This very imperfect description attracted the 
ridicule of Di-og-e-nes ; who, ivittily, and in 
derision, introduced to his school — a fowl, 
stripped of its feathers, and contemptuouslj 
asked, — " Is this Plato's man ?" 

Notes. 1. Don't caricature this sound of a and e bwfow 

r, by giving it undue stress and quantity, in such words as — air 
(ay-ur,) pa-rent, (pae-rent,) dare, (day-ur,) chair, there, where, ic, 
nor give it a flat sound, as some do to e in bleat, pronouncing st 
bloat. To give this sound properly, separate the teeth an inch, 
project the Tips, and tiring forward the corners of the mouth, like 
a fuucel. 2. It would be jtist as proper in prose, to say, where- 
eever I go, where-ttuer I am, I neevcr shall see thee more; as to 
say in poetry, where-tar I am, I near shall see thee more. 3. Em 
weight, whn/, («, y, gh are silent,) and a in age, whale, &o, are 
just alike in sound ; and as this sound of e does not occur a.nong 
its natural, or regular sounds, as classed by our orthoepists, it is 
called " irregular ;" i. e. it borrows this name sound of a; or i» 
s.ou:-.ded like it. 4. Some try to make a distinction between a in 
fate, and o in fair, calling it a medial sound: which error is ow- 
ing to t being an abrupt element, and r, a. prolonged one : but no 
one can make a good sound of it, either in speech or song, whoi 
thus situated, by giving it a sound snlike the name sound of a ; be- 
ware of unjust prejudices and prepossessions. I say no-shun-*.', 
ra-shun-al, &c, for the same reason that I say no-tional and de-ro- 
tional ; because of analogy nnd effect. 

Proverbs. 1. Accusing — is proving, when 
malice and power sit as judges. 2. Adversity — 
may make one wise, but not rich. 3. Idle folks 
— take the most pains. 4. Every one is architect 
of his own fortune. 5. Fine feathers make fine 
birds. 6. Go into the country to hear the news 
of the town. 7. He is a good orator-^-who con- 
vinces himself. 8. If you cannot bite, never show 
your teeth. 9. Lawyers' 1 houses — are built on the 
heads of fools. 10. Little, and often, fill the purse. 
11. Much, would have more, and lost all. 12. 
Practice— makes perfect. 

TJi.e Bible — requires, in its proper deiiv~ 
cry, the most extensive practical knowledge 
of the principles of elocution, and of all the 
compositions in the world; a better impres- 
sion may be made, from its correct reading, 
than from the most luminous commentary. 

Varieties, l. Love what you ought to do, 
and you can easily do it ; — oiled wheels run 
freely. 2. Cicero says, that Roscius, a Ro- 
man orator, could express a sentence in ?s 
many different ways by his gestures, as he 
himself could by his words. 3. Why is the 
letter A, like a honey-sncVde 1 Because a B 
follows it. 4. Never speak unless you have 
something to say, and always stop when you 
have done. 5. The most essential rule in de- 
livery is — Be natural and in earnest 6. Our 
education should be adapted to the full de- 
velopment of body and mind. 7. Truth can. 
never contradict itself; but is eternal and im- 
mutable — the same in all ages : the states of 
men's reception of it — arc as various as the 
principles and subjects of natural cieation. 

As good have no time, as make bad use of it. 



lb 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



:, Slo, 
to ,nanis 
otnninn Bl 



!t)t>n-\? an Art, that teaches mo how 

to H P^f 1 ,n - v f' l '<i"£* aml thoughts to 
oth^^nn Such a way as to ghe them a true 
/ of how, and what, I feel 
and t 'link,- and, in so doing', to make them 
feel and think, as I do. Its object is, to enable 
me to communicate to the hearers, the whole 
truth, just as it is; in of her words, to give me 
the ability, to do perfect justice to the subject, 
to them, and to myself : thus, involving the 
philosophy of end, cause, and <?#ec/,-the cor- 
respondence of affection, thoughts and luords. 

6. Tne second sound of A is grave, 
©r Italian. An; alms, far; pa- 
pa calms ma -mo, and com- OvJ^ 
mands Charles to craunch the / , — -\ \ 
G/-monds in the fiaun-\ed paths ; / J/^^\\ ) 
Ins ma -ster dc-mdn-ded a | 1L_J^ / 
haunch of par -tridgc of fa- \ \^£y 
ther; aunt /awn-ted the laicn- [A infAR.] 
dress for salve from the ba- 

?ia-na tree; Jar-vis farms sar-sa-pa-riWa in 
A-rner-i-ca; ma-nil-ln balm is a charm to 
halve the qualms in Ra-ye/i-na ; he a.-bides in 
C/ti-na, and vaunts to have saim-tered on 
the a-re-na, to guard the vil-la hearths from 
harm-iul ef-Jiu-\i-a. ; they/Zatm-ted on the so- 
fa., ar-gu-ing for Quarles' psalms, and for-mu- 
la for juun-dice in Mec-ca. or Me-di-na; a 
calf got the chol-e-ra. in Cu-ba, and a-rose to 
run the gaunt-let for the ayes and noes in A- 
ceWa-ma. 

7. In making the vowel sounds, by expel- 
ling them, great care must be taken, to con- 
vert all the breath that is emitted, into pure 
sound, so as not to chafe the internal surface 
of the throat, and produce a tickling, or 
hoarseness. The happier and freer from re- 
straint, the better: in laughing, the lower 
muscles are used involuntarily; hence the 
adage, ; laugh, and be faW In breathing, 
reading, speaking, and singing, there should 
be n<" rising of the shoulders, or heaving of 
the josom ,• both tend to error and ill health. 
Beware of using the lungs, as it is said; let 
them act, as they are acted upon by the lower 
muscles. 

Notes. ;, T.iis, strictly speakinir, :j the only natural 
sound in all Linkages, and ii the easiest made: it merely requires 
the under jaw to ce dropped, and a vocal sound to be produced : 
all otter vowels are derived from it; or, rather, are madifuMlionr 
ol it. 2. When a is an article, i. e. when used by itself, it always 
has ! b is sound, but must not be accented ; as, u a man si w ? h. -rse 
io.1 a sheep in a meadow :" except as contrasted with tht , as, " I 
said Hit man, not a man." 3. When a forms an unaccented syl- 
taote, it has this sound : as, a-wake, a-bide, a-like, L ware, a-tone, 
: void, a-way, tc. 4. It has a similar sound a£ Loe end of words, 
Kliier with, or without an h : as, AVah, //a/i-nah, ,S'a-rah, Af-ri- 
ca. A-OTer-i-ca, i-o-ta, dog-ma, &c. Beware of saying, Ko-er, Sa- 
ry, *c. 5. It generally has this sound, when followed by a single 
is the same syllable: as, ar-eon, ar-tist, kc. ; also in star-ry, (full 
ff ttert,) and tar-ry, (besmeared with tar.) 

Education. The derivation of this word 
-will assist us in understanding its mean- 
ing; it being composed of the Latin word 
fc-du-^o, to lead or draw out. All develop- 
ments, jou of mailer and spirit, are from 



within — out ; not from without — tn. The 
beautiful rose — does not grow by accretion, 
like the rocks ; its life Hows into it through 
the nutriment, imbibed from the earth, the 
air, and vho i/u/ter, which are incorporated 
with the very lifc-blooa w Ova ^W\\t as a me' 
dium : it is a manifestation of the Lif2 uia* 
fills all things, and flows into all things, ac- 
cording to their various ./arms. The analogy 
holds good as it respects the human mind; 
tho' vegetables are matter, and mind — i* 
spirit ; the former is of course much more 
confined than the latter. The powers of the 
mind — must be developed by a power from 
within, and above' itself ; and that is the best 
education, which will accomplish this most 
rapidly, and effectually, in accordance with 
the laws of God, — which always have refer- 
ence to the greatest good and the most truth. 

Anecdote. A clergyman, whose turn it 
was to preach in a certain church, happening 
to get wet, was standing before the session- 
room fire, to dry his clothes ; and when his 
colleague came in, he asked him to preach for 
him ; as he was very wet. " No Sir, I thank 
you ;" was the prompt reply : "preach your- 
self; you will be dry enough in the pulpit." 

Proverbs. 1. A burden that one chooses, is 
not felt. 2. A guilty conscience needs no accu- 
ser. 3. Jlfter -wit is every body's wit. 4. Enough 
— is as good as a feast. 5. All is but lip wisdom, 
that wants experience. 6. Better bend, than b^eik 
7. Children and fools often speak the truth. 8 
Out of debt, out of danger. 9. Wade not in un- 
known waters. 10. Do what you ought, and lei 
come what will. 11. Empty vessels make th« 
greatest sound. 12. Pause, before you f^Uot/ at 
example. 

Natural and Spiritual, Sirce we are 
possessed of both body and soul, it is of the 
first importance that we mctke u^e of natural 
and spiritual means fa obtaining good; i.e. 
natural and spiritual truths. Our present 
and eternal destinies-should ever be kept in 
mind; and that, which is of the greatest mo- 
ment, receive the principal attention: and, 
since dea:ih-\s only a continuation of life, out 
education should be continuous : both states 
o** ^eiiig will be best attended to, when seen 
and attended to in connection. 

Varieties. 1. Horses will often do more 
for a whistle, than a whip: as some youth are 
best governed by a rod of love. 2. Why is <* 
bankrupt like a clock? Because he must 
either stop, or go on tick. 3. True reading 
is true exposition. 4. Conceive the inten- 
tions of the author, and enter into the charac- 
ter. 5. The sciences and mechanical arts axe 
the ministers of wisdom, not the end. 6. Do 
we love our friends more when present, or 
absent ? 7. All natural trutks, which respect 
the works of God in creation, are not only real 
natural truths, but the glasses an-i containing 
principles of spiritual ones. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



19 




8. The means to be used, thus to make 
known ray feelings and thoughts, are tones, 
words, looks, actions, expression, and silence: 
whence it appears, that the body is the grand 
medium of communication between myself 
and others ,- for by and through the body, are 
tones, words, looks, and gestures produced. 
Thus I perceive, that the mind, is the active 
agent, and the body, the passive agent ; that 
this is the instrument, and that the perfor- 
mer: here I see the elements of mental and 
vocal philosophy. 

9. The tlilrd sound of A Is broad: 
ALL, wall, auc-tion, a«s-pice ; vVjLy, 
his vaul-twg daugh-ter haul'd / 
the dau-yhin in the sauce-pan; / 
the pal-try sauce-hox waltz Vl / 
in the £ea-sau-cer; al-oe-it, the \ 
mawk-ish. aw-thor, dined on ^ 
nati-se-ous saw-sa-ges ; the au- [a in at.t,,] 
burn pal-hey draws Zaw-rel plau-dits ; his' 
naugh-ty dwart got the groat through the 
fgw-cit ; he thwar-ted the /aZ-chion and sal- 
gaw-ky got "in^fekf wa-to ; the law-less 
ae-/m«-ded the green sward oHttJQBi an .d 
avm-'mg. 

10. CuRRAif, a celebrated Irish orator, pre- 
sents us with a signal instance, of what can 
be accomplished by assiduity and persever- 
ance : his enunciation was so precipitate and 
confused, that he was called "stuttering Jack 
Curran." To overcome his numerous de- 
fects, he devoted a portion of every day to 
reading and reciting aloud, slowly, and dis- 
tinctly, some of the most eloquent extracts in 
our language : and his success was so com- 
vlete, that among his excellencies as a speak- 
er, was the clearness of his articulation, and 
an appropriate intonation, that melodized 
every sentence. 

Notes. 1. To make this sound, drop and project the jaw, 
ind shape the mouth as in the engraving : and when you wish to 
produce a very grave sound, in speech or song, in addition to the 
above, swell the voindpipe, (which will elongate and enlarge the 
vocal chords,) and form the voice as low as possible in the larynx ; 
for the longer and larger these chords are, the graver will be the 
voice : also, practice making sounds, while exhaling aud mhaling, 
to deepen the tones. This sound is broader than the German a. 
2. V sometimes has this sound: I thought he caught the cough, 
when ae oousnt the cloth : he wrought, fought, and sought, but 
talked naught 3. Beware o! adding an r after w, as lawr, jawr, 
fawr, &c. 4. The italic a in the following, is broad. .511 were 
tp-palled at the thral-dom of Wal-ter Ra-leigh, who was al-most 
•eald-ed in the cal-dron of boiling wo-ter. 

Habits of thought. Thinking is to the 
mind what digestion is to the body. We 
may hear, read, and talk, till we are gray ,- 
but if we do not think, and analyze our sub- 
jects, and look at them in every aspect, and 
see the ends, causes, and effects, they will be 
of little use to us. In thinking, however, we 
must think clearly and without confusion, as 
we woidd examine objects of sight, in order 
to get a peifect idea of them. Thinking— is 
spiritually seeing; and we should always 
think of things so particularly as to be able 



,:h 



to describe them to others with as 
curacy as we do any external j>bj« 
we have seen with our material eyes. 

Anecdote. Wild Oats. After the first 
speech, made by the younger Pitt, in the House 
of Commons, an old member sarcastically re- 
marked,-" I appi-ehend that the young gentle- 
man has not yet sown all his wild oats.'" Ta 
which Mr. Pitt politely replied, in the course 
of an elaborate and eloquent rejoinder, "Age 
— has its privilege ,- and the gentleman him- 
self' — affords an ample illustration, that I re- 
tain food enough for geese to pick." 

Proverbs. 1. A calumny, tho' known to lie 
such, generally leaves a stain on the reputation. 
2. A blow from a frying pan, tho' it does not 
hurt, sullies. 3. Fair and softly, go sure and far. 
4. Keep your, business and conscience well, and 
they will be sure to keep you well. u. A man 
knows no more, to any purpose, than he practices. 
6. Bells call others to church, but enter not them- 
selves. 7. Revenge a wrong by forgiving it. S. 
Venture not all you have at once. 9. Examine 
your accounts and your conduct every night. 10. 
Call me cousin, but don't cozen me. 11. Eagles— 
to' &y?ft?\P ut s,iee P flock together. 12. It is good 

Theology— included Zi we]L 
heathen and christian; and comprente^ 1 
the study of the Divine Being, his laws 
and revelations, and our duty towards Hint 
and our neighbor. It may be divided into 
four grand divisions ; viz. Paganism, Mahom- 
edanism, Judaism, and Christianity. The 
study of Theology is the highest and noblest 
in which we can be engaged: but a mere 
theoretical knowledge, like the sunbeam on 
the mountain glacier, may only dazzle — to 
blind; for, unless the heart is warmed with 
love to God, and love to man, the coldness 
and barrenness of eternal death will reign in 
the soul : hence, the all of Religion relates to 
life ; and the life of Religion is — to do good 
— for the sake of good. 

Varieties. He, who studies books a'.one, 
will know how thing-s ought to be ; and he 
who studies men, will know how things are.. 

2. If you would relish your food, labor for it; 
if you would enjoy your raiment, pay for it 
before j-ou wear it; if you wonld sleep sound- 
lj r , take a clear conscie?ice to bed with you, 

3. The more we follow nature, and obey her 
laws, the longer shall we live ,- and the far- 
ther we deviate from them, the sooner wo 
shall die. 4. Always carry a few proverbs 
with you for constant use. 5. Let compul- 
sion be used when necessary ,- but d£cepfn>n 
— never. 6. In China, physicians are always 
under pay, except when their patrons are 
sick ; then, their salaries are stopped till health 
is restored. 7. AU things speak; note weU 
the language, and gather wisdom from k. 

Nature — is but a name for an effect, 
Whose cause— is God. 



jR^Lrds. T see, are among the principal 

treM r5ti! tor these important purposes; 

t HiiUil by the organs of voice: 

these two tilings, then, demand my first and 

lor attention, uwitfaand voice; words 

are composed offertera ; and the Botes, is the 

oi the proper actions of certain partsof 

dy, called meal organs, converting air 

into sound; which two mighty instruments, 

words and voice, must be examined anah/ti- 

xlIii/, and synthetically ; without which p^o- 

X$$ I cannot understand any thing. 

12. Tlie fourth, sound of A is short: 



\J<^mJ 




AT, aft, add ; I had rath-cr 
have aftflr-rel of as-jwxr-a-gus, 

than the en-om-el and ag-ate ; 
the ea-fo-Z tor-bade the mal-e- 
fac-tOT his np-par-eUvidjavc- 
. : CAar-i-ty dane'd in the 
eron-a-ry with Cap-ri-corn ; [ « J 
the mal-con-tm/s pass'd thro 1 Alh-ens in 
i-'-'j-ru-ar-y ; his cai7i-e\s quafPd the As- 
pAal-tic can-f/Z with fa-«7-i-ty ; plas-xer the 
/«Z-low-ground o/"-ter Jo»-u-ar-y ; the ad- 
a^'C an-swers on the cow-rade's staff; the 
plaid tas-zel is man-u-/ac-tur , d in France ; 
he va-tack'd the tar-m with rai'Z-le-ry, qfc ,1 
terhehad scath'd the block aoJ ' 

-^'Tfiore perfect the medium, the 
will it subserve the uses of communi- 
cation. Now, by analyzing the constituents 
of words and voice, I can ascertain whether 
they are in a condition, to answer the varied 
purposes for which they were given ; and 
fortunately forme, while I am thus analyz- 
ing the sounds, of which words are com- 
posed, I shall, at the same time, become 
acquainted with the organs of voice and 
hearing, and gradually accustom them to the 
performance of their appropriate duties- 
Notes. 1. To eive the exact sounds of any of the 
.lie words, in which they are found at the beginning, and 
proceed as if you were going to pronounce the whole word, but 
i( iji the instant you have produced the vowel sound ; and that is the 
true one. 2. Beware of clipping this, or any other sound, or 
f it I not, I'kn ;ro, you'kn see, they'kn come ; but, I can go ; 
you can sec; they can come. 3. A, in ate, in verbs, is generally 
t ■ ■■ ; but in other parts of speech of more than one syllable, it is 
iik.. illy tltorl ; unless under some occctii : as — intimate that to my 
. i-nd ; educate that delicate and obstinate child ; hecalcu- 
r rravate the case of bis affectionate and unfortunate wife ; 
v>iona'e sou meditate* howhe may alleviale the condition 
■isolate mother; vindicate your consulate's honor ; depre- 
ita Mart, by importunate prayer: the prei-ate 
late calculate to regulate the ultimate* immediately. 4. 
- ''-.at oPen the sounds of rowels are sometimes modified, 
■ i',hy letters immediately preceding ormcceeding; which 
en, as it respectsa, for instance, in rcn-e-gade, mem-brane, 
te, 'a/i-lii-ate, po-ten-tate, nijht-in-gale, &c. : some hav- 
i...' a jiirfit accent on the last syllable; and others having the a 
. or followed by a vocal cntitorcuit : see previous Note 3. 
r is called ihort, when it cannot be prolonged in Speech, 
thotil altering its form ; and long, when 
• ■■! without such cbanye: therefore, we call a 
kort, because it is seal and felt to be so: as, cold, 
, Dial : i'i making a long sound the glottis is kept open in- 
. ; «imJ in making a slu/rt one, it is closed suddenly, produ- 
. abrapt sjund, like some of the consonants. 

Anecdote. Saving Fuel. Some time ago, 
wiien modern stoves were first introduced, 
and offered for f^ale in a certain city, the ven- 
der remarked, by way of recommending them, 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 

that one stove would save half the fuel 

Mr. Y being present, replied, " Sir, I wil 

buy two of them, if you please, and then I 
shall save the whole." 

Proverbs. 1. All truths must not be told at 
all times. 2. A pood servant makes a good mat- 
ter. 3. A man in distress, or despair, does as 
much as ten. 4. Before you make a friend, eat 
a peck oi salt jvith him. 5. Passion — will master 
you, if you do not master your passion. 6. Fort* 
— is good, but not formality. 7. Every tub must 
stand on its own bottom. 8. First come, first served 
Friendship — cannot stand all on one side. 10. 
Idleness — is the hot-bed of vice and ignoranet 
11. He that will steal a pin, will steal a bettet 
thing. 12. If you lie upon roses when young, you 
will lie upon thorns when old. 

Qualilicatiosas of Teachers. Inas 
much as the nature of no one thing can be 
understood, w ithout a knowledge of its origin^ 
and the history of its formation, the qualifi- 
cations of teachers are seen and felt to be so 



great, as to induce the truly conscien^pjMg£ 
exclaim,jn viewoq^,ri" 4: How can ^ e edu _ 

SifiV uie'child in a way appropriate to his state 
and relations, without a knowledge of his 
mental and physical structure? Is not a 
knowledge of psychology and physiology as 
necessary to the educator, as the knowledge 
of mechanics is to the maker or repairer of 
a watch ? Who would permit a man even 
to repair a watch, (much less hire a man to 
make one,) who had only seen its externals? 
Alas ! how poorly qualified are nine-tenths 
of our teachers for the stations they occupy ! 
almost totally ignorant of the nature and ori- 
gin of the human mind, and the science of 
physiology, which teaches us the structure 
and uses of the body. But how little they 
understand their calling, when they suppose 
it to be merely a teaching of Z/oofr-knowledge ; 
without any regard to the development of 
mind and body. A teacher should possess a 
good moral character, and entire self-control 
a fund of knowledge, and ability to commu- 
nicate it ; a uni f orm temper, united with de- 
cision and firmness ; a mind to discriminate 
character, and tact to illustrate simply the 
studies of his pupils; he should be patient 
and forbearing ; pleasant and affectionate, and 
be capable of overcoming all difficulties, and 
showing the uses of knowledge. 

Varieties. 1. If one were as eloquent as 
an angel, he would please some folks, much 
more by listening, than by speaking. 2. An 
upright politician asks — what recommends a 
man ; a corrupt one — who recommends him. 
3. Is any law independent of its maker? 4. 
Kind words — cost no more than wnkind ones 
5. Is it not better to be wise than rich ? 6 
The power of emphasis — depends on concen- 
tration. 7. Manifested wisdom — infers de> 
sign. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



21 




[E in EEL.] 



1 1. 1 here are then, it appears, two kinds 
oi language; an artificial, or conventional 
language, consisting of words; and a natu- 
ral language, consisting of tones, looks, ac- 
tions, expression, and silence ; the former is 
addressed to the eye, by the book, and to the 
ear, by speech, and must thus be learned ; the 
latter — addresses itself to both eye and ear, at 
the same moment, and must be thus acquired, 
so far as they can be acquired. To become 
an Elocutionist, I must learn both these lan- 
guages ; that of art and science, and that of 
the passions, to be used according- to my sub- 
ject and object. 

15. 23 lias two regular sounds ; first, 
its name sound, or .long: 
EEL ; e-ra, e-vil ; nei-ther 
de-ceive nor in-vei-gle the 
seam-stress ; the sleek rae-gro 
bleats like a sheep ; Cce-sar's 
e-dict pre-ce<f es the e-poch of 
ire-mors ; the sheik's beard 
stream 'd like a me-te-or ; the ea-gle shriek'd 
his ;*E*an on' the lea; the e-go-tist seemed 
pleas'd with his pZe-na-ry leis-me to see the 
co-te-rie ; ^E-ne-as Leigh reads Mo-sheim 
on the e-dile's heath ; the peo-ple tre-pann'd 
the fiend for jeer-ing his prem-ier ; his liege, 
at the or-gies, gave ce-iZ-iads at my niece, 
who beat him with her 6e-som, like a cav- 
a-Zi'er in Greece. 

16. Since the body is the grand medium, 
for communicating feelings and thoughts, 
(as above mentioned,) I must see to it, that 
each part performs its proper office, without 
infringement, or encroachment. By observa- 
tion and experience, I perceive that the 
mind uses certain parts for specific pur- 
poses ; that the larynx is the place where 
vocal sounds are made, and that the power 
to produce them, is derived from the com- 
bined action of the abdominal and dorsal 
muscles. Both body and mind are rendered 
healthy and strong, by a proper use of all 
their organs and faculties. 

17. Irregular Sounds. I and Y often 
have this sound; as — a.n-tique, ton-tine ; the 
po-Zicfi of the bas-tile seized the man-da-rin. 
for his ca-price at the mag-a-zwe,- the u- 
nique fi-nan-cier, fsi-tigued with his bom-ba- 
zine va.-lise, in his re-treat from Mo-bile, lay 
by the ma.-rines in the ra-vine, and ate ver- 
di-gris to re-lieve him of the cri-tique. Sheri- 
dan, Walker and Perry say, yea yea., and nay 
nay, making the e long ; but Johnson, En- 
tick, Jamieson and Webster, and the author, 
pronounce yea as if spelled yay. Words de- 
rived immediately from the French, according 
to the genius of that language, are accented 
on the last syllables ; — c&-price, fa.-tigue, po- 
lice, &c. 

Borrow — treads heavily, and leaves behind 
A deep impression, e'en vvnen sne departs : 
While Joy— trips by, witb steps, as light as wind, 
And ucarcely leaves a trace spon our hearts 
Of ber faint foot-falls. 



18. That the body may be free, to ac 1 . in 
accordance with the dictates of the mind, at' 
unnatural compressions and conlractio70m\.ist 
be avoided ; particularly, cravats and stock* 
so tight around the neck, as to interfere with 
the proper action of the vocal organs, ana 
the free circulation of the blood ; also, tigh 
waistcoats ; double suspenders, made tigh t - 
er with straps ; elevating the feet to a point 
horizontal with, or above, the seat ; and 
lacing, of any description, around the waist, 
impeding the freedom of breathing natural- 
ly and healthfully. 

Anecdote. True Modesty. When Wash' 
ington had closed his career, in the French 
and English war, and become a member of 
the House of Burgesses, in Virginia, th€ 
Speaker was directed, by a vote of the house, 
to return tha?iks to him, for the distinguished 
services he had rendered the country. As 
soon as Washington took his seat, as a mem- 
ber, Speaker Robinson proceeded to discharge 
the duty assigned him ; which he did in such 
a manner as to confound the young hero ; 
who rose to express his acknowledgments ; 
but such was his confusion, that he was 
speechless ; he blushed, stammered, and trem- 
bled for a short time ; when the Speaker re- 
lieved him by saying — " Sit down, Mr. Wash- 
ington ; your modesty is equal to j'our valor ; 
and that — surpasses the power of any lan- 
guage that /possess." 

Proverbs. 1. A blythe heart makes a bloom- 
ing visage. 2. A deed done has an end. 3. A 
great city, a great solitude 4. Desperate cuts — 
must have desperate cures. 5. All men are not 
men. 6. A stumble— may prevent a. fall. 7. A fool 
always comes short of his reckoning. 8. Beggart 
must not be choosers. 9. Better late, than never. 
10. Birds of & feather flock together. 11. Nothing 
is lost in a good market. 12. All is well, that ends 
well. 13. Like priest, like people. 

Varieties. 1. The triumphs of truth — are 
the most glorious, because they are bloodless ■ 
deriving their highest lustre — from the num- 
ber of the saved, instead of the slain. 2. Wis- 
dom — consists in employing the best mea?is, 
to accomplish the most important ends. 3. 
He, who would take you to a place of vice, or 
immorality, is not your real friend. 4. If 
gratitude — is due from man — to man. how 
much more, from man — to his Maker ■ 5-. 
Arbitrary power — no man can either give, or 
Iwld; even conquest cannot confer it: hence, 
law, and arbitrary power — are at eternal en- 
mity. 6. They who take no delight in* vir- 
tue, cannot: take any — either in the employ- 
ments, or the inhabitants of heaven. 7. Be- 
ware of violating the laws of Life, and you 
will always be met in mercy, and not in 
judgment. 

The calm of that old reverend broio, the glow 
Of its thin silver locks, was like a flash 
Of sunlight— in the pauses of a storm. 






PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 






1 9. Having examined ihc structure of the 
b'-lif t A see ihe necessity of standing, at 
/frsf^n the /»•/"* foot, and the right ioot a 
few inches from it, (where it will naturally 

/all, when raised up,) and pointing its heel 
toward the hollow ot the /<;/> foot; of throw- 
ing the should* rn bark, so as to protrude the 
t^itft, that the air may have free ac-cess to 
tiie air cells of the lungs ; of having the 
Mper part of the body quiescent, and the 
mind concentrated on the lower muscles, 
until they act voluntarily. 

20. Tlie second somid of E is short : 
F.LL; edge, en; the dem-o- 
crat's cy-ui-page was a leath- 
er epA-od; the es-qture leap'd 
from a pe<£-es-tal into a ket- 
tle of eggs; a Z^p-er clench'd 
the epA-a, zeaZ-ous of the eft-on 
feath-er, and held it stead-y ; 
get the non-pa-ret'Z tueap-ons for the rec- 
on-dite Aer-o-ine ; the ap-pre7t-tice for-gers 
the sAe/;-els lent the deaf preZ-ate for his 
/<er-o-rne ; the clean- ly Zeg-ate held the tep- 
id mead-ow for a spe-cial home-stead ; ster- 
e-o-type the pref-ace to the ten-els as a prel- 
ude to our ed-i-ble re-tro-spec-tions ; yes- 
tor-day I gness'd the fet-id yeast es-caped 
with an ep-i-sode from the ep-ic into the 
pet-ala of the sen-na ; the pres-age is im- 
press'd on his re£-i-na instead of the keg of 
phlegm. 

21. In these peculiar exercises of voice — 
are contained all the elements, or principles 
of articulation, accent, emphasis and expres- 
sion ; and, by their aid, with but little ex- 
ertion, I shall be enabled to economize my 
breath, for protracted vocal efforts, and im- 
part all that animation, brilliancy and force, 
that reading, speaking and singing ever re- 
quire. 

22. Irregulars. A, I, U, and Y, some- 
times have this sound : as — an-y, or man-y 
pan-e-gT/r-ists of Mar-y-land said, — the bur- 
y-ing ground a-gainst the world; says the 
lan-cet to the trum-pet — get out of my way 
a-gain, else the bur-i-&\ ser-vice will be said 
over you in the black-ness of darfc-ness ; there 
is nefc-nesa in the base-merit of our plan-et, 
from the use of as-sa-/a?Z-i-da, in-stead of fier- 
rings: never say sus-pect for err-pect, busi- 
ness for busi-n^ss, pay-munt for pay-ment, 
>r gar-munts for gar-ments. 

23. As much depends on the quality of 
which any thing is made, I must attend to 
the manner, in which these sounds are pro- 
duced, and see that they are mn.de just right; 
each having its appropriate weight, form, 
and quantity. Taking the above position, 
and opening tH mouth wide, turning my 
lips a little out all round, trumpet fashion, 
and keeping mv eyes on a horizontal level, 
and inhaling full breaths, I will expel these 
sixteen vowel Bounds into the roof of my 
mouth, with a suddenness and force similar 
to the crack of a thong, or the sound of a gun. 

An ape— is ;ir. ipe, a varlet—An a varlet, 
Let their be cl rthed in silk, or scarlet. 



Notes. 1. lo make Uiif sounc. ot h, drop i:e under pm 
open tlm mou'.h wile, as indicated by the engravitu, to as to pi» 
vent it from becou-.ing in the least nasaL 2. E in cnl, eiux, and 
ess, generally has this sound ; tho' sometimes it slides into short 
u. 3. When e precedes two r'l (rr,) it should always have this 
sound : as err, er-ror, mer-it, cher-ry, wher-ry : but wt«n followed 
by only one r, it glides into short u, tho' the under jaw should b» 
much depressed: as — the mer-chant beard the cleri. calling on thi 
ser-geant for iner-cy ; let the ter-ma-gant learn that the pearls wert 
jerked from the rob-ber in the tav-ern. 1 ie similarly situated m 
certain words : the girls and birds in a mir^-ii j'r-di, sang dif» 
ges to the virgin: see short u. 4. E is silent Li thi luts^'-able of— 
e-ven the shov'cls are breken in the overt ; a weasel opens the nor- 
cl, with a sick-ening sniv-el; driv-tn by a deafening ti-tle frctss 
heav-cn, he was of-ten taken and shaken till he was softened ajs4 
ri-pened seven, e-leven or a doz-en times. 5. The long vowels ai» 
epen and continuous ; the short ones are shut, abrupt, or ducr«*t, 
and end as soon as made. 

Anecdote. A lawyer, to avenge himself 
on an opponent, wrote "Rascal" in his hat. 
The owner of the hat took it up, looked rut' 
fully into it, and turning to the judge, ex- 
claimed, "I claim the protection of tliis hon- 
orable court ; — for the opposing counsel has 
written his name in my hat, and I have strong 
suspicion that he intends to make off with it." 

Proverbs. 1. Make both ends meet. 2. Fair 
play — is a jewel. 3. Proverbs existed before books. 
Ml blood is alike ancient. 5. Beauty — is only skin 
deep. 6. Handsome is, that handsome does. 7. 
One fool makes many. 8. Give every one his due. 
9. No rose without a thorn. 10. Always hare a 
few maxims on hand for change. 

Sublimity and Pathos. As weak lights 
— are obscured, when surrounded by the daz- 
zling rays of the sun, so, sublimity, poured 
around on every side, overshadows the arti- 
fices of rhetoric : the like of which occurs in 
painting? for, tho' the light and shade, lie 
near each other, on the same ground, yet, the 
light first strikes the eye, and not only ap- 
pears projecting, but much nearer Thus, 
too, in composition, the subline and pathetic. 
— being nearer our souls, on account of some 
natural connection and superi >r splendor, are 
always more conspicuous thau figures ; they 
conceal their art, and keep themselves veiled 
from our vieiv. 

Sounds. 1. The whole sound made is not in 
the whole air only ; but the whole sound is in 
every particle of air : hence, all sound will enter a 
small cranny unconfused. 2. At too great a dis- 
tance, one may hear sounds of the voice, but not 
the words. 3. One articulate sound confounds 
another ; as when many speak at once. 4. Ar- 
ticulation requires a mediocrity of loudness. 

Varieties. 1. See how we apples swim 
2. He carries two faces. 3. Strain at a gate 
and swallow a saw-mill. 4. Who is the true 
gentleman] He whose actions make him 
such. 5. A sour countenance is a manifest 
sign of a froward disposition. 6. Speak — as 
you mean ,- do — as you profess, and perform 
what you promise. 7. To be as nothing, is 
an exalted state: the omnipotence of the 
heavens — exists in the truly humbled heart 
Whatever way you wend, 
Consider well the end. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



23 




;i in ISLE.] 



24. I observe thai there are three distinct 
principles involved in oral words, which 
are their essences, or vowel sounds; their 
forms, or the consonants attached to them, 
and their meaning, or uses. By a quick, 
combined action of the lower muscles upon 
their contents, the diaphragm is elevated so 
as to force the air, or breath, from the lu?tgs 
into the windpipe, and through the larynx, 
where it is converted into vowel sounds; 
which, as they pass out through the mouth, 
the glottis, epiglottis, palate, tongue, teeth, 
lips, and noss, make into words. 

25. I lias two regular sounds : First, 
its NAME sound, or long: ISLE ; , 
ire, i-o-dine : Ge^-tiles o-blige 
their wines to lie for sac-cha- 
rine Zi-lacs to ez-pe-dite'their/e- 
iins gibes ; the ob-lique grind- 
Hone lies length-wise on the ho- 
rt-zon ; a ti-ny le-wi-a-than, on 
the heights of the en-ui-rons of Ar-gives, 
zs-pires to sigh through the mi-cro-scope ; 
the e-dile likes spike-nard for his he-Zi-a- 
cal ti-a-ra; the mice, in tri-ads, hie from the 
aisle, si-ne di-e, by a vi-va vo-ce vote ; the 
6i-na-ry dt-gest of the chrys-ta-Zme ma-gi, 
was hir'd by the choir, as a si-ne-cure, for 
a Zt-vre. 

26. These vocal gymnastics produce as- 
tonishing power and flexibility of voice, 
making it strong, clear, liquid, musical and 
governable ; and they are as healthful as 
they are useful and amusing. As there is 
only one straight course to any point, so, 
there is but one right way of doing any 
thing, and every thing. If I wish to do any 
thing well, I must first learn how; and if I 
iegin right, and keep so, every step will 

'carry me forward in accomplishing my 06- 
jects. 

M"otCS. , Y, in some word*, has this sound ; particularly, 
wl,en accented, and at the end of certain nouns and verbs : the ly- 
«e-um's a\-ly proph-e-cy to the t%-nas-ty to mag-ni-fy other's faults, 
but rmn-i-fy its ovm. 2. This first dip-thongal sound begins 
nearly like 2J A, as the engraving indicates, and enis with the 
name sound of e (a^e.) 3. /is not used in any purely English word 
as a final letter; y being its representative in such a position. 4. 
When / commences a word, and is in a syllable by itself, if the ac- 
cent be on the succeeding syllable, it is generally long: as, i-cfe-a, 
i-cZm-ti-fy, i-doZ-a-try, i-?-as-ci-ble, i-ron-i-cal, i-ZaZ-ic, i-Zin-e-rant, 
&c. It is long in the first syllables of vi-taZ-i-ty, di-am-e-ter, di-ur- 
nal, di-Zem-ma, bi-en-ni-al, cri-Zc-ri-on, chi-me-ra, bi-og--ra-phy, li- 
«n-tious, gi-gan-tic, pri-me-val, vi-6ra-tiou, &c. 5. In words de- 
rived from the Greek and Latin, the prefixes hi, (twice,) and tri, 
(thrice,) the / is generally long. 

Anecdote. Seeing a Wind. "I never 
saw such a wind in all my life ,•" said a man, 
during a severe storm, as he entered a tem- 
perance hotel. "Saw a wind! " observed 
another,—" What did it look like ! " "Like!" 
said the traveller, " why, like to have blown 
my hat off." 

On a Mummy. 
Why should this worthless tegument— endure, 

If its undying gt^st — be lost forever 1 
let us keep the #jvl— embalmed and pure 

In living virtue ; .hat when both must sever, 
Although corruption — may our frame consume, 
th' immoital spirit — in the skies may bloo"'i. 



Proverbs. I. A crowd, is not company. 2 
A drowning man will catch at a straw. 3. Half 
a loaf is better than no bread. 4. An ill work- 
man quarrels with his tools. 5. Better be alow. 
than in bad company. (5. Count not your chick 
ens before they are hatched. 7. Every bodya 
business, is nobody's business. 8. Fools— make 
feasts, and wise men eat them. 9. He that wiil 
not be counselled, cannot be helped. 10. If it were 
not for hope, the heart would break. II. Kind' 
ness will creep, when it cannot walk. 12. Oil and 
truth will get uppermost at last. 

General Intelligence. It is a signal 
improvement of the present day, that the ao 
tions and reactions of Zwo/c-leaming, and oi 
general intelligence — are so prompt, so in- 
tense, and so pervading all ranks of society. 
The moment a discovery is made, a principle 
demonstrated, or a proposition advanced, 
through the medium of the press, in every 
part of the world; it finds, immediately, 3 
host, numberless as the sands of the sea, pre- 
pared to take it up, to canvass, confirm, re' 
fate, or pursue it. At every water-fall, on 
the line of every canal and raiZ-road, in the 
cotmZmg--room of every factory and mercan- 
tile establishment; on the quarter-deck of 
every ship that navigates the high seas ; m 
the farm of every intelligent husbandman ,• 
in the workshop of every skillful mechanic ; 
at the desk of every scAooZ-master ; in the of- 
fice of the lawyer ; in the study of the physir 
cian and clergyman ,• at the fireside of everi 
man who has the elements ci a good educa- 
tion, not less than in the professed retreats of 
learning, there is an intellect to seize, to 
weigh, and to appropriate the suggestions, 
whether they belong to the world of science, 
of tenets, or of morals. 

Varieties. 1. Ought women be allowed 
to vote ? 2. Nothing is troublesome, that we 
do willingly. 3. There is a certain land of 
pleasure in weeping ,- grief — is soothed and 
alleviated, by tears. 4. Labor hard in the 
field oi observation, and turn every thing to a 
good account. 5. What is a more lovely sight, 
than that of a youth, growing up under the 
heavenly influence of goodness and truth ? 

6. To speak ill, from knowledge, shows a 
want of character ; to speak ill — upon sus- 
picion, shows a want of honest principle 

7. To be perfectly resigned in the whole life 
and in its every desire, to the will and govern- 
ance of the Divine Providence, is a worship 
most pleasing in the sight of the Lord. 

To me, tho' bath'd in sorrow's dew, 

The dearer, far, art thou : 
I lov'd thee, when thy woes were few 

And can I alter — now ? 
That face, in joy's bright hour, was fair , 
More beauteous, since grief is there ; 

Tho' somewhat pale thy brow ; 
And be it mine, to soothe the pain, 
Thus pressing on thy heart and brain. 



24 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 




ST. Articulation is the cutting out and 
$\aping, in a perfectly distinct and appro- 
priate manner, with the organs of* speech, 
all the simple and compound sounds which 
our twenty-six letters represent. It is to 
the car what a fair hand-writing is to the 
rye. and relates, of course, to the sounds, 
not to the ?iames, of both vowels and conso- 
nants. It depends on the exact positions 
and correct operations, of the vocal powers, 
and on the ability to vary them with rapid- 
\ty, precision and effect: thus, articulation 
is purely an intellectual act, and belongs 
not to any of the brute creation. 

88. Tlie second sound of I is sliort: 
ILli; inn, imp; the ser-vile 
*pir-it of a rep-tile Zifi-er-tine is 
*os-tile to /em-i-nine fi-del-i- / 
ty; the pu-er-ile d?'s- ci-piine / 
of mer-can-tile chi-cawe-ry, is \ 
the ar-£?/-i-cer of miZ-i-ta-ry 
rfes-po-tism ; the /er-tile eg- fI m ILL - ] 
lan-tine is des-thrd for a ^'a-ve-nile gift ; the 
gen-\x-\ne pro-file of Cap-tain White-field is 
the an-^p-o-des of in-di-vi-si-&tZ-i-ty ; the 
wind, in the vi-cm-i-ty of mount Lio-a-nus, 
is a me-di-ci-nal for the con-sptr-a-cy of the 
brig-and ; the pris-tine fomi-tains of the 
ad-a-marc-tine spring is swZ-lied with the 
guil-iy guil-o-<me ; man is an ex-quis-ite 
e-pif-ome of the wi-fi-nite Di-vm-i-ty, and 
should be stud-led as de/-i-nite-ly as pos- 
si-ble. 

39. Two grand objects are, to correct bad 
nabits, and form good ones ; which may be 
done by the practice of analysis and syn- 
thesis : that is, taking compound sou?ids, 
s^tcihles, words, and sentences into pieces ; 
or, resolving them into their component 
parts, and then recombiuing, or putting them 
together again. Error must be eradicated, 
it truth cannot be received ; we must cease 
to do evil, and learn to do well : what is 
true can be received only in proportion as 
its opposite false is removed. 

30. Irregulars. A, E, O, U, and Y, in a 
few words, have this sound: as— the kom.-a.ge 
giv-en to pret-ty wom-en has been the rich-est 
bus-'ness of pet-ty tyr-an-ny, since the English 
proph-e-cy of Py-thag-o-tus ; the styg-i-an fur- 
nace of bus-y Wal-lace, in Hon-ey aZ-ley, is a 
med-\ey of pijr-i-les, and the treb-\e cyn-o-sure 
of cyg-nets, Ays-sop, and syn-o-nyms. 

IVoteS. 1. Beware of Mr. Walker's error, in giving the 
Nuii'l of Ion? E to the final unaccented / anJ Y of syllables and 
wards, which is always short: as,— as-per-ee-iee, for as-pcr-i-ty, 
■ee-nor-ee-tee, for mi-nw-i-ty ; c/iar-ee-tee for ckar-ity; pos-see- 
i 1-ee-tee, for pos-»i-Wi-i-ty, fcc 2. Some give the short sound of 
I loA in the unaccented syilibles of— ad-age, cal-bage, pos-tage, 
ten-dage, u-sage, &c., which is agreeable to the authorities, and to 
five the a as in at, savors of alfectation. 3. / is silent in evil, de- 
«I, couitn, basin, tic. 4. J, in final unaccented syllables, not 
tndmg a word, is generally short ; li-mtt-i-tude, t-del-'Ay Bfll 
■or-i-ty 

A baric, at midnight, sent alone — 
To drift upon a moonless sea, — 

A lute, whose leading chord — is gone, 

A wounded bird, that has but one 

Imperfect wing — to soar upon, — 
Is like rhat /am— wi houl thee. 



| Anecdote. Accommodating. A Physi> 
\cixtn — advcitised, that at the request of his 
| friends, he I. ad moved near the church-yard ; 
i and trusted that his removal would accom- 
modate many of his patients. No doubt of it. 

Proverbs. 1. A thousand probabilities will 
not make one trutn. 2. A hand-saw is a good 
thing, but not to shave with. 3. Gentility, with- 
out ability, is worse than beggary. 4. A man 
may talk like a wise man, and yet act like a fool 
5. If we would succeed in any thing, we must us« 
the proper means. 6. A liar should have a good 
memory. 7. Charity begins at home, but doe» 
not end there. 8. An ounce of mother wit is 
worth a pound of learning. 9. Short reckonings 
make long friends. 10. Custom is the plague of 
wise men, and the idol of fools. 11. Everyone 
knows best where his own shoe pinches. A faint 
heart never won a fair lady. 

Freedom. When freedom is spoken of 
every one has an idea of what is meant ; for 
every one has known what it is to live in 
freedom, and also what it is to five, and act 
under restraint. But then it is obvious 
that different persons feel in freedom, ac 
cording to circumstances ; things which re 
strain and infringe upon the freedom of 
some, have no such effect upon others. So 
that in the same situation in which one 
would feel free, another would feel himself 
in bondage. Hence, it is evident that tho' 
all have a general idea of what freedom is, 
yet all have not the same idea of it. For 
as different persons would not ail be free in 
the same circumstances, it follows, that free- 
dom itself is not the same thing to rzZZ. Of 
course, the kinds of freedom are as many 
and various as the kinds oilove are by whicn 
we are all governed : and our freedom is ' 
genuine or not genuine, according as our 
ruling love is good or evil. 

Varieties. 1. Did you ever consider how 
many millions of people — live, and die, igno- 
rant of themselves and the world ? 2. Stin- 
giness soon becomes a confirmed habit, and 
increases with our years. 3. The man, wha 
is just, and firm in his purpose, cannot be 
shaken in his determined mind, either by 
threats or promises. 4. By continually scol- 
ding children and domestics, for small faults, 
they finally become accustomed to it, and de- 
spise the reproof, o. Good bocks — are not 
only a nourishment to the mind, but they en- 
lighten and expand it. 6. Why do we turn 
from those living in this world, to those who 
have left it, for the evidences of genuine love? 
7. All principles love their nearest relatives, 
and seek fellowship and conjunction %, th 
them. 
There are some bosoms — dark and drear 
Which in unwater'd desert are ; 
Yet there, a curious eye, may trace 
Some smiling spot, some verdant piace. 
Where little flowers, the weeds between 
Sppnd their sot\ fragrance— ' ill unseen. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



25 



.'-•, 




31. The organs of speech are, the dorsal 
and abdominal muscles, the diaphragm and 
intercostal muscles, the thorax or chest, 
the lungs, the trachea or wind-pipe, the 
larynx, ^composed of five elastic cartilages, 
the jpper one being the epiglottis,) the glot- 
tis, palate, tongue, teeth, lips and nose : 
but, in all efforts, we must use the whole 
hody. All vowel sounds are made in the 
larynx, or vocal box, and all the consonant 
Bounds above this organ. 

32. O has three regular sounds : first, 
its name sound, or long: OLD ; 
the sloth-M doge copes with the 
./Zo-rist before Pfta-raoh, and 
sows oK-ly yeZ-low oats and o- 
sier ; the home-\y por-trait of the 
a-Jro-cious goldsmith is the yeo- 
man-ry's ^7-low ; Job won't go 
to Rome and pour taZ-low o-ver the broach 
of the pre-co-cious wid-ow Gross; the 
whole corps of for-gers tore the tro-yhy 
from the /eZ-low's nose, and told him to 
6tore it under the po-ten-tate's so-fa, where 
the de-co-rus pa-JroZ pour'd the hoa-xy min- 
nows. 

33. A correct and pure articulation, is 
indispensable to the public speaker, and es- 
sential in private conversation : every one, 
therefore, should make himself master of it. 
All, who are resolved to acquire such an 
articulation, and faithfully use the means, 
(which are here furnished in abundance,) 
will most certainly succeed, though opposed 
by slight organic defects ; for the mi?id may 
obtain supreme control ov^r the whole body. 

34. Irregulars. A u, Eau, and Ew, have 
this sound in a few words : The beau Ros- 
geau, with mourn-ful ha.\i-teu r, stole the haut- 
boy, bu-reau, cha-teau and flam-beaux, and 
poked them into his port-manteau, before the 
belle sowed his toe to the har-row, for strew- 
ing the sheiv-brea.d on the plat-eaw. 

Anecdote. A Narrow Escape. A pedan- 
tic English traveler, boasting that he had been 
so fortunate, as to escape Mr. Jefferson's ce- 
lebrated non-importation law, was told by a 
Yankee lady, " he was a very lucky man : for 
she understood that the non-importation law 
prohibited the importing of goods, of which 
brass — was the chief com position." 

Proverbs. 1. Affairs, like salt-fish, should 
be a long time soaking. 2. A fool's tongue, like 
a aionkey's tail, designates the animal. 3. Jill 
are not thieves that dogs bark at. 4. An ant may 
work its heart out, but it can never make honey. 
5. Better go around, than fall into the ditch. 6. 
Church work generally goes on slowly. 7. Those, 
whom guilt contaminates, it renders equal. 8. 
Force, without forecast, is little worth. 9. Gen- 
tility, without ability, is worse than plain beg- 
gary. 10. Invite, rather than avoid labor. 11. 
He'rl go to law, at the wagging of a straw 
BY' son's choice, — that, or none. 

'Tis not, indeed, my talent— to engage 
In lofty trifir.s ; or, to swell my page — 
With wind, and noise. 
4 



12. 



Natural Philosophy — include* all sub- 
stances that affect our five senses, — hearing, 
seeing, tasting, smcVing and feeling ,- whicii 
substances are called matter, and exist in 
three states, or conditions, — solid, when the 
particles cohere together, so as not to be easily 
separated ,- as recks, wood, trees, &c. : liquid, 
when they cohere slightly, and separate 
freely ; as water : and gaseous, or aeriform 
state, when they not only separate freely, 
but tend to recede from each other, as far a*: 
the space they occupy, or their pressure will 
permit, — as air, &c. 

Educators, and Education. We all 
must serve an apprenticeship to the f>ve 
senses ; and, at every step, we need assist- 
ance in learning our trade : gentleness, jrc- 
tience, and love — are almost every thing ;n 
education : they constitute a mild and bless- 
ed atmosphere, which enters into a child s 
soul, like sunshine into the rosebud, slowly, 
but surely expasding it into vigor and 
'beauty. Parents and Teachers must govern 
their own feelings, and keep their hearts 
and consciences pure, following principle, 
instead of impulse. The cultivation of the 
affections and the development of the body's 
senses, begin together. The first effort of 
intellect is to associate the %ame$ of objects 
with the sight of them ; hence, the neces- 
sity of early habits of observation — of pay- 
ing attention to surrounding things and 
events ; and enquiring the whys and where- 
fores of every thing; this will lead to the qual- 
ities, shapes, and states of inanimate sub- 
stances ; such as ha-rd, soft, round, square, 
hot, cold, swift, slow, &c. ; then of vegeta- 
bles, afterwards of xnimals ; and finally, of 
men, angels, and God. In forming th« 
human character we must not proceed aa 
the sculptor does, in the formation of a sta- 
tue, working sometimes on one part, then 
on another ; but as nature does in forming 
a flower, or any other production ; throwing 
out altogether the whole system of being, 
and all the rudiments of every part. 

Varieties. 1. The Just man will flourish 
in spite of envy. 2. Disappointment and 
suffering, are the school of wisdom. 3. la 
corporeal punishment necessary in the school, 
army and navy ? 4. Every thing within the 
scope of human power, can be accomplished 
by well-directed efforts. 5. W<>MA?ir — the 
morning-star of our youth, the duy-sHr of 
our manhood, and the evening-star cf our age. 
6. When Newton was asked — by wh^t means 
he made his discoveries in science ; he .-eplied, 
"by thinking." 7. Infinity — can nev<jr be 
received fully — by any recipient, either in 
heaven, or on earth. 
The silver eel, in shining volumes roll'd, 
The yellow carp, in scales bedropp'd with g\.ldj 
Round broken columns, clasping ivy twin'd, 
And o'er the rjtins— stalk'd the stately hind. 

O cursed thirst of gold ! when, for thy sake. 
The fool— throw? up his iucerest in both worlds | 
First, starv'd in thh, then, lamn'd —in that to com*. 



*G 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



33. Attend to the quantity and quality of 
the sounds, which you and others make ; 
that is, the volume and purt/j/ of voice, the 

ccupied, and the manner of enuncia- 
ting letters, words, and senfe7ices : also, 

their differences and disti7ictio?is, and 
_nake your voice produce, and your ear 06- 
it(,-iv them. Get clear and distinct ufeas 
and conceptions of things and principles, 
both as respects spirit, and matter ; or you 
will grope in darkness. 

36. The second sound of O is close : 

OOZE; do stoop, and choose 
tc ac-tw-tre the gour-mand ^{Y^ 
and trou-ba-dowr, with boots Y/>3<\\ 
and shoes ; the soot-y cou-ri-ev V>^~ 
broods a j/oH<7t-ful boor to gam- v — y 
hoge the goose for a dri-cem; in 00ZE] 
Brougham, (Broom,) proves the 
uncouth dro.-go»n to be a wound-ed tou-rist 
by his droop-ing sur -tout ; it be-hoves the 
?>oo-by to snoot his bou-sy noo-dle soon, 
lest, owo-yant with soup, the fool moor his 
poor ea-raoe to the roof of the moon. 

37. The difference between expulsion 
and explosion is, that the latter calls into 
use, principally, the lungs, or thorax : i. e. 
the effort is made too much above the dia- 
phragm : the former requires the combined 
action of the muscles below the midriff; this 
is favorable to voice and health ; that is de- 
leterious, generally, to both: many a one has 
injured his voice, by this unnatural process, 
and others have exploded their health, and 
seme their life ; beware of it. 

BTotes. 1. Au, in some French words, have this sound ; 
u — chef-d*eau- vre, (she-doo vr, a master stroke ;) also, Eu ; as — ma- 
neu-vre; coup-d'ctiZ, (coo-date, first, or slight view;) coup-de- 
niain, (a sudden attack ;1 and cnup-de-groce, (coo-de-gror, the fin- 
■hing stroke). 2. Beware of Walker's erroneous notation in pro- 
nouncing oo in iooA, cook, took, look, &.c, like the second sound of o, 
jl< in toon, pool, tooth, &c. In these first examples, the oo is like u in 
pull ; and in the latter the o is close. In the word to, in the following, 
when it constitutes a part of the verb, the o is close: as — "in the 
examples alluded to;" "attend t' the exceptions." 3. In concert 
pra:'jce, maoy will let out their voice*, who would read so low as 
»ot to be heard, if reading individually. 

Proverbs. 1. A fog — cannot be dispelled 
with a fan. 2. A good tale — is often marr'd in 
telling. 3. Diligence— makes all things appear 
$asy. 4. A good name — is better than riches. 5. 
A man may even say his prayers out of time. 6. 
A-peZ-les— was not a painter in a day. 7. A plas- 
ter is a email amends for a broken head. 8. Jill 
a/e not saints that go to church. 9. A man may 
live upon little, but he cannot live upon nothing 
Hall- 10 A rolling stone gathers no moss. 11. 
Patience— is a bitter seed; but it yields sweet 
fruit. 12. The longest life must have an end. 

There is a pleasure — in the pathless woods, 
There is a rapture — on the lonely shore, 
There is society, where none intrudes, 
By the deep Sea, and music — in its roar : 
I love not Man— the less, but Nature — more, 
From these our interviews, in which I steal 
From all I may be, or have been befort, 
To mingle — with the Universe, and feel — 
vVtat I can ne'er eiprese, yet cannot all conceal. 



Causes of Greek. Perfection. All G reek 

Philologists have failed to account satisfac- 
torily, lor the form, harmony, power, and 
superiority of that language. The reason 
seems to be, that they have sought for a thing 
where it is not to be found; they havelook'd 
into books, to see — what was never written 
in books ; but which alone could be heard. 
They learned to read by ear, and not by let- 
ters; and, instead of having manuscripts be- 
fore them, they memorized their contents, and 
made the thoughts their own, by actual appro- 
priation. When an author wished to have 
his work published, he used the living voice 
of himself, or of a public orator, for the prm- 
ter and bookseller : and the public speaker, 
who was the best qualified for the task, would 
get the most business : the greater effect they 
produced, the higher their reputation. The 
human voice, being the grand instrument, 
was developed, cultivated, and tuned to the 
highest perfection. Beware of dead book 
knowledge, and seek for living, moving na- 
ture : touch the letter — only to make it alive 
with the eternal soul. 

Anecdote. / hold a wolf by the ears : 
which is similar to the phrase — catching 
a Tartar ; supposed to have arisen from a 
trooper, meeting a Tarter in the woods, 
and exclaiming, that he had caught one : to 
which his companion replied, — " Bring him 
along, then;" — he answered, "I ca'/St ;" 
"Then come yourself;" — "He won't let 
me." The meaning of which is, to repre- 
sent a man grappling with such difficulties, 
that he knows not how to advance or recede. 
Varieties. 1. Is it not strange, that 
such beautiful flowers — should spring from 
the dust, on which we tread ? 2. Patient, 
persevering thought — has done more to en- 
lighten and improve mankind, than all the 
sudden and brilliant efforts of genius. 3. It 
is astonishing, how much a little added to a 
little, will, in time, amount to. 4. The hap- 
piest state of man — is — that of doing good, 
for its own sake. 5. It is much safer, to 
think — what we say, than to say — what vre 
think. 6. In affairs of the heart, the only 
trafic is — love for love ; and the exchange — 
all for all. 7. There are as many orders of 
truth, as there are of created objects of onto* 
in the world ; and as many orders of good- 
proper to such truth. 

There is a spell— in every flower, 
A sweetness— in each spray, 

And every simple bird — hath power — 
To please me, with its lay. 

And there is music— on the breeze, 
Th't sports along the glade, 

The crystal dew-drops— on the tr$t$ t 
Are gems — by fancy made. 

O, there is joy and happiness — 
In every thing I see, 

Which bids nv soul rise up, and blCM 
The God, th\ blesses me. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



27 



<^U 




[O in ON.] 



^ 38. Oratory — in all its refinement, and 
nHecessary circumstances, belongs to no par- 
ticular people, to the exclusion of others; 
fior is it the gift of nature alone ; but, like 
other acquirements, it is the reward of ardu- 
us efforts, under the guidance of consummate 
skill. Perfection, in this art, as well as in all 
others, is the work of time and labor, prompt- 
ed by true feeling, and guided by correct 
thought. 

39. The third sound of O is short 
ON ; fore-head, prod-u.ce ; the 
dol-o-rous coll-'ier trode on the 
bronz'd oft-e-lisk, and his sol- 
ace was a com-bat for o»i-lets 
made of gor-geous cer-al? ; the 
iwZ-a-tile pro-cess of making 
ros-in glob-ules of frop-i-cal mon-ades is ex 
<raor-di-na-ry ; the doc-i\e George for-got 
the joc-und copse in his «som-bre prog-ress 
to the moss broth in yon-der trough of 
knowl-edge ; beyond the flor-\d frosts of 
morn-'mg are the sop-o-r?/-ic prod-nets of 
the AoZ-y-days. 

40. Dean Kirwan, a celebrated pulpit ora- 
tor, was so thoroughly convinced of the im- 
portance of manner, as an instrument of do- 
ing good, that he carefully studied all his 
tones and gestures ; and his well modulated 
and commanding voice, his striking attitudes, 
and his varied emphatic action, greatly aided 
his wing-ed words, in instructing, melting, 
inflaming, terrifying and overwhelming his 
auditors. 

41. Irregulars. A sometimes has this 
sound : For what was the wad-d\mg swan 
^war-rel-ing with the wasp tuaw-der-ing and 
wao-bling in the swamp ? it was in a quan- 
da-ry for the quan-ti-ty of wars be-tween 
the squash and wash-tub, I war-ran t you. 

Notes. 1. The o in nor is like o in on and or : and the rea- 
«on why it appeal I to be different, is that the letter r, when smooth, 
being formed the lowest in the throat of any of the consonants, 
partakes more of the properties of the vowel than the rest 2. O 
is silent in the final syllables of pris-on, bi-son, dam-son, ma-son, 
par-son, sex-ton, ar-son, bla-zon, glut-ton, par-don, but-ton, rea-son, 
mut-ton, ba-con, trea-son, reck-on, sea-son, u-ni-son, he-ri-zon, crim- 
•on, les-son, per-son, Mil-ton, John-son, Thomp-son, &c. 

Proverbs. 1. A man of gladness— seldom 
falls into madness. 2. A new broom sweeps 
clean. 3. A whetstone — can't itself cut, yet it 
makes tools cut. 4. Better go around, than fall 
into the ditch. 5. Religion— is an excellent ar- 
mor, but a bad cloke. 6. The early bird— catches 
the worm. 7. Every one's faults are not written 
in their fore -heads. 8. Fire and water — are ex- 
cellent servants, but bad masttrs. 9. Fools and 
obstinate people, make lawyers rich. 10. Good 
counsel— has no price. 11. Great barkers— are 
no biters. 12. Regard the interests of others, as 
well as your own. 
'Tis liberty, alone, that gives the flower 
Of fleeting life its lustre, and perfume ; 
And we are weeds without it. 
Man's soul— in a perpetual motion flows, 
And to no outward cause— that motion owes. 



Analogies. Light— Is used in all lan- 
guages, as the representative of tndh in ita 
power of illustrating the understanding. 
Sheep, lambs, doves, 6cc, are analogous to, 
or represe7zr^ertain principles and affection* 
of the mind, which are pure and innocent, 
and hence, we select them as fit representa ■ 
tives of such affections : while, on the other 
hand, bears, wolves, serpents, and the like, 
are thought to represent their like affection*. 
In painting and sculpture it is the artist 1 ! 
great aim, to represent, by sensible colors, 
and to embody under material forms, cer- 
tain ideas, or principles^ which belong to the 
mind, and give form to his conceptions on 
canvass, or on marble : and, if -his execu- 
tion be equal to his conception, there will 
be a perfect correspondence, or analogy, be- 
tween his picture, or statue, and the ideas. 
which he had endeavored therein to express. 
The works of the greatest masters in poe- 
try, and those which wih live the longest, 
contain the most of pure correspondences ; 
for genuine poetry is identical with truth; 
and it is the truth, in such works, which is 
their living principle, and the so?*rce of their 
power over the mind. 

Anecdote. Ready Wit, A boy, having 
been praised for his quickness of reply, a 
gentleman observed, — " When children are 
so keen in their youth, they are generally 
stupid when they become advanced in 
years.'''' "What a very sensible boy yt<z 
must have been, sir, 1 ' — replied the lad. 

Varieties. 1. Why is a thinking perso 
like a mirror ? because he reflects. 2. Selj 
sufficiency — is a rock, on which thousand 
perish ; while diffidence, with a proper sens 
of our strength, and worthiness, generalli 
ensures success. 3. Industry — is the law o* 
our being ; it is the demand of nature, cfrea 
son, and of God. 4. The generality of man 
kind — spend the early part of their lives ii 
contributing- to render the latter part misers 
ble. 5. When we do wrong, being convinc- 
ed of it — is the first step towards amend- 
ment. 6. The style of writing, adopted by 
persons of equal education and intelligence, 
is the criterion of correct language. 7. To 
go against reason and its dictates, when pure, 
is to go against God : such reason — is the di- 
vine governor of man's life: it is the very 
voice of God. 

THE EVENING BELLS. 

Those evening bells, those evening bells I 
How many a tale — their music tells 
Of youth, and home, and native clime, 
When I last heard their soothing chime. 
Those pleasanf hours have passed away, 
And many ? hear' # that then was gay, 
Within tht umb —now darkly dwells, 
And hear* n< m*ore those evening bells. 
And so it will be when Jam gone; 
That tuneful peal— will still ring on, 
When other bards— shall walk these dells 
And sing your praise, sweet evening belts. 



S8 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION 




[U in MUTE.] 



48 •Yield implicit obedience toj&ll rules 

ami principles, that are founde<^^^,ature 
and science ,• because, case, gractfw^is, and 
ways follow accuracy; but rules 
may be rfbpefued with, when yw have be- 
come divested of bad habits, and have joer- 
yfecfoa yourself in this useful art Do not, 
h a wo> or, destroy the scaffold, until you have 
erected the building ; and do not raise the 
euper-s/r»f/-ure, till you have dug deep, and 
laid its foundation stones upon a. rock. 

43. U lias three regular sounds : first, 
same sound, vr long ; MUTE; 
June reuses as-tute Ju-ly the 
juice dueTo*cu-cum-ber; this feu- 
dal con-nois-simr is a su#-a-ble 
co-ad-Ju-tor for the cu-ri-ous 
f ?Mm-tua-ma-ker ; the a-gue and 
/e-ver is a siu-gu-lar wui-sance to the a-cu- 
men of the mu-taMo; the cw-rate caZ-cu- 
lates to ed-u-cate this lieu-/en-ant for the tri- 
fcu-nal of the Duke'sju-di-cat-ure. 

44. Elocution, is reading, and speaking, 
with science, and effect. It consists of two 
parts : the Science, or its true principles, and 
the Art, or the method of presenting them. 
Science is the knowledge of Art, and Art 
is the practice of Science. By science, or 
knowledge, we know how to do a thing ; and 
the doing of it is the art. Or, science is the 
parent, and art is the offspring; or, science 
is the seed, and art the plant. 

45. Irregulars. Ew, has sometimes this 
diphthongal sound, which is made by com- 
mencing with a conformation of organs much 
like that required in short e, as in ell, termi- 
nating with the sound of o, in ooze; see the 
engraving. Re-view the dew-y Jew a-new, 
while the cat mews for the stew. In pro- 
nouncing the single sounds, the mouth is in 
one condition ; but, in giving the diphthong, 
or double sound, it changes in conformity to 
them. 

X Otes. 1. U, when long, at the beginning of a word, or 
syllable, is preceded by the consonant sound of y : i. e. it has this 
Hnisoaanl and its own vowd sound : as ; u-ni-verse, (yu-ni-verse,) 
pen-u-ry, fpen-yu-ry,)rfaJ-u-a-ry,(stat-yu-a-ry,)ewe, (yu,) uoZ-ume, 
fvol-yume,) na-ture, (nat-yure,) &c: but not in col-umn, al-un\, 
fcc, where the u is short. 2. Never pronounce duty, dooty; tune, 
toon>; news, noot ; blue, Moo; slew, tloo; dews, doos; Jews, Joos; 
Tuesday, Tootliy; gratitude, gratitoodt, &c. 3. Sound all the 
syllables full, tor a time, regardless of sense, and make every let- 
ter that is not silent, tell truly and fully on the ear: there is no 
danger that you will not clip them enough in practice. 

Anecdote. A Dear Wife. A certain ex- 
travagant speculator, who failed soon after, 
informed a relation one evening, that he 
had that day purchased an elegant set of 
jewels for his dear wife, which cost him 
two thousand dollars. " She is a dear wife, 
fadeed," — was the laconic reply. 

Knowledge — dwells 
in heads, replete with thoughts of other men ; 
Visdom. in minds attentive to their own. 



lung. 
i, a-i<i 
iy he 

I 



Provei'bs. 1. Fools —make fashions, and 
other people follow them. 2. From nothing, I 
nothing can come. 3. Give hut rope enough, a*xt 
he will hang himself. 4. Punishment- may 
tardy, but it is sure to overtake the guilty. 
He that plants trees, loves others, hesides 
self. 6. If a fool have success, it always r-ui 
him. 7. It is more easy to threaten, than loj 
8. Learning — makes a man fit company for 
self, as well as others. 9 Little strokes fe £~iat 
oaks. 10. Make the lest of a had bargain. 11. 
The more we have, the more we desire. 12. G«a- 
teel society — is not always good society. 

Tlie Innocent and Guilty. If those, 
only, who sow to the wind — reap the whirl- 
wind, it would be well : but the mischief 
is — that the blindness of bigotry, the mad- 
ness of ambition, and the miscalculation of 
diplomacy — seek their victims, principally, 
amongst the innocent and unoffending. 
The cottage — is sure to suffer, for every er- 
ror of the court, the cabinet, or the camp. 
When error — sits in the seat of power and 
authority, and is generated in high places, 
it may be compared to that torrent, which 
originates indeed, in the mountain, but 
commits its devastation in the vale below. 

Sternal Joy. The delight of the soul — 
is derived from love and wisdom from the 
Lord ; and because love is effective through 
wisdom, they are both fixed in the effect, 
which is use : this delight from the Lord 
flows into the soul, and descends through 
the superiors and inferiors of the mind — in- 
to all the senses of the body, and fulfills \u 
self in them ; and thence joy — becomes joy, 
and also eternal— from the Eternal. 

Varieties. 1. Gaming, like quickscmd, 
may swallow up a man in a moment. 2. 
Real independence — is living within our 
means. 3. Envy — has slain its thousands; 
but neglect, its tens of thousands. 4. Is not 
a sectarian spirit — the devil's wedge — to sep- 
arate christians from each other? 5. That 
man is little to be envied, whose patriotism— 
would not gain force on the plains of Mara- 
thon ; or whose piety would not grow warm- 
er among the ruins of Ionia. 6. Rational 
evidence — is stronger than any miracle 
whenever it convinces the understanding ; 
which miracles do not. 7. Man, in his sal- 
vatio?i, has the power of an omnipotent Gou 
to fight for him ; but in his damnation, he 
must fight against it, as being ever in the ef 
fort to save him. 

THE SEASONS. 

Tliese, as they change, Almighty Father! these 
Are but the varied God. The rolling year 
Is full of thee- Forth in the pleasing spring 
Thy beauty walks, thy tenderness and love. 
Wide flush the fields ; the soft'ning air is balm , 
Echo the mountains round ; the forest smiles, 
And ev'ry sense, and ev'ry heart is joy. 
Even from the bodifs purity — the mind- 
Receives a secret, sympathetic aid 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



2? 



46. By Analysis — sounds, syllables, 
words, and sentences are resolved into their 
constituent parts ; to each is given its own 
peculiar sound, force, quality, and meaning; 
and thus, every shade of vocal coloring, of 
thought and feeling, may be seen and felt. 
By Synthesis, these parts are again re-uni- 
ted, and presented in all their beautiful and 
harmonious combinations, exhibiting all the 
varieties of perception, thought, and emotwn, 
that can Reproduced by the human mind. 

47. Tlie second sound of U is sliort : 
UP ; an wZ-tra numh-sk\i\\ is a v^i^ 
mur-ky sc«Z-lion; she urged I ~_£~ \ 
her cowr-te-ous Aas-band to / /^^\ 
coup-\e himself to a tre-me/ir I w^ j 



dous /?ir-tle ; the country ur- 
chin iwr-chased a bunch of [UinUP.] 



at, and burstwith the W r« ^^^ 

the ?'>»- r, " 

48. Lord Mansfield, when quite young, 
used to recite the orations of Demosthenes, 
on his native mountains ; he also practised 
before Mr. Pope, the poet, for the benefit of 
liis criticisms ; and the consequence was, his 
melodious voice and graceful diction, made 
as deep an impression, as the beauties of his 
style and the excellence of his matter; 
which obtained for him the appellation of 
" the silver-toned Murray.'''' 

49. Irregulars. A, E, I, O, and Y, 
occasionally have this sound : the ico-man's 
Aws-band's clerk whirled his cow-rade into a 
bloody flood for mirth and mon-ey ; sir 
tquir-rei does noth-ing but shove ora-ions up 
the coZ-lan-der ; the sov-reign monk has just 
■;ome to the coZ-ored wum-key, quoth my 
uxm-dering mother; this swr-geon bumbs 
the /tor-ror-stricken oe<Z-lam-ites, and cov- 
ets the com-pa-ny of mar-tyrs and roi-bers, 
to piun-dex some tons of coics-ins ot their 
gloves, cow-fort, and hon-ey ; the bird en- 
ieZ-ops some worms and po?«e-gran-ates 
in its siom-ach, k-hove the myr-tie, in front 
of the iay-ern, thus, t res-pass ing on the 
cow-er-ed az-ands ; the wa?i-ton sex-ton en- 
cow-pass-es the earth with gi-ant whirl- 
winds, and plun-ges its sons into the bot- 
tomless o-cean with his shov-el. 

IVotCS. 1. E and U, final, are silent in such words as, 
bogw, vague, eclogue, synagogue, plague, catalogue, rogue, dema- 
gogue, &r. 2. Do justice to every letter and word, and as soon 
think ot «tepping backward and forward in walking, as to repro- 
ijounce your words in reading: nor should you call the words in- 
tombctly, any sooner than you would put on your shoes for your 
kat. or your bonnet for your s^awl. 3. When e or t precedes one 
r, m the same syllable, it generally has this sound : berth, rrirth, 
heard, vir-gin, &c. see N. p.'-22 . 4. Sometimes r is double in sound, 
ftcugh written single. 

Could we — with ink — the ocean fill, 
/ Were earth — of parchment made ; 
Were every single stick— a quill, « 

Each man — a scribe by trade ; 
To write the tricks— of half the sex, 

Would drink the ocean dry :— 
Gallants, beware, look sharp, take care, 
The blind -eat many a fly. 
C 



Proverbs. I. Like the dog in the manger , 
he will neither do, nor let do. 2 Many a slip be- 
tween the cup and lip. 3. No great loss, I u- 
there is some small gain. 4. Nothing venture, 
nothing have. 5. One half the world knows noi 
how the other half lives. 6. One story is good 
till another is told. 7. Pride— goes before, an* 
shame— follows after. 8. Saying and doing, an 
two things. 9. Some— are wise, and wme— ar»- 
otherwise. 10. That is but an empty purse, thai 
is full of other folk's money. 11. Common famt 
is generally considered a liar. 12. No weapon, 
but truth ; no law, but love. 

Anecdote. Lawyer's Mistake When the 
regulations of West Boston bridge were drawn 
up, by two famous lawyers, — bne section, it 
is said, was xoritten, accepted, and now stands 
thus: " A« d tIic saiCi proprietors shall meet 
annually, on the first Tues-day of June ,- 
provided, the same does not fali on Sunday."''' 

Habits. If parents — only exercised the 
same forethought, and judgment, about the 
education of their children, as they do in 
reference to their shoemaker, carpenter , join- 
er, or even gardener, it would be much bet- 
ter for these precious ones. In all cases, 
what is learned, should be learned well : \q 
do which, good teachers — should be preferred 
to cheap ones. Bad habits, once learned, 
are not easily corrected : it is better to learn 
one thjng well, and thoroughly, than many 
things wrong, or imperfectly. 

Varieties. 1. Is pride — an indication ot 
talent? 2. A handsome woman — pleases 
the eye ; but a good woman the heart : th* 
former — is & Jewel; the latter — a living trea 
sure. 3. An ass — is the gravest beast; an 
owl — the gravest bird. 4. What a pity it is, 
when we are speaking of one who is beaut ir 
ful and gifted, that we cannot add, that he 
or she is good, happy, and innocent/ a. 
Don't rely too much on the torches of others ; 
light one of your own. 6. Ignorance- is 
like a blank sheet of paper, on which we may 
write ; but error — is like a scnbbled one. 7. 
All that the natural sun is to the natural 
world, that — is the Lord-^-to his spiritual 
creation and world, in which are our minds— 
and hence, he enlightens every man, that 
cometh into the world. 

Our birth— is but a sleep, and a forgetting; 

The soul, th't rises with us, our life's star. 

Hath had elsewhere— its setting, 

And cometh from afar ; 

Not in entire forgetfulness, 

And not in utter nakedness, 

But trailing clouds of glory — do we come 

From God, who is our home. 

And 'tis remarkable, that they 

Talk most, that have the least to say. 

Pity — is the virtue of the law,- 

And none but tyrants- -use it cruelly. 

'Tis the first sanction, nature gave to man. 

Each other to assist, in what they can. 



30 



PRINCIPLES UF ELOCUTION. 



50. It is no! the quantity read, but the 
m ann er of reading, and the acquisition of 
correct ami efficient rules, with the ability 

to Apply them, accurately, gracefully, and 
involuntarily, that indicate progress in these 
arts : therefore, take ow principle, or co/rc- 
bination 01 principles, at a time, and prac- 
tice it till the object is accomplished: in <A?'s 
way, you may obtain a perfect mastery over 
your voca! powers, and all the elements of 
•BtsgiMge. 

51. The third sound of U is Full i 
PULL ; cru-el Bru-tus rued the i 
crude fruit bruised for the pud- Vj ^ fcJ 
ding ; the^ru-dent ru-ler wound- I /S?2\ 
ed this youth-ful cuck-oo, be- [ v--— >^ 
cause he would, could, or should I SScpyj 
not im-brue Wis hands in Ruth's \ ^- t -^/ 
gru-e\. pre-par'd ior a fuUh fid cn ;n FUII ^ 
(frw-id ; the butch-er's bid-let push-ed puui 
puss on the swt-ful c?^s/i-ion, and grace- 
iul-ly put this frw-ant Prws-sian into the 
pwZ-pit for cru-ci-^z-ion. 

52. Avoid rapidity and indistinctness 
of utterance ; also, a drawling, mincing, 
harsh, mouthing, artificial, rumbling, mo- 
notonous, whining, stately, pompous, un- 
varied, wavering, sleepy, boisterous, labor- 
ed, formal, faltering, trembling, heavy, 
theatrical, affected, and self-complacent 
manner ; and read, speak, sing, in such a 
clear, strong, melodious, flexible, winning, 
bold, sonorous, forcible, round, full, open, 
brilliant, natural, agreeable, or mellow tone, 
as the sentiment requires ; which contains 
in itself so sweet a charm, that it almost 
atones for the absence of argument, sense, 
s.nc\ fancy. 

53. Irregulars. Ew, 0, and Oo, occa- 
sionally have this sound: the shrewd wo- 
man es-chev)ed the wolf, which stood pul- 
ling Ruth's wol-sey, and shook Tra-man 
Wor-ces-ter's crook, while the brew-er and 
his bul-\y crew huz-za'd for all ; you say it 
is your truth, and / say it is my truth ; you 
may take care of yourself, and I will take 
tare of myself. 

JVotCS. 1. Beware of omitting vowels occurring between 
onsonants in unaccented syllables : as hist'ry, for his-to-ry ; lit'ral 
for lit-e-ral; vot'ry, for vo-tarry ; past'ral, for pai-to-ral ; numb'ring, 
for num-ler-ing ; corp'ral, for cur-po-ral ; gen'ral, for gen-c^ral; 
naem'ry, for mem-o-ry, &c. Do not pronounce this sound of u 
like oo in boon, nor like u in mute ; but like u in full: as, chew, 
oot choo, &c 2. The design of the practice on the forty-four sounds 
of our letters, each in its turn, is, besides developing and training 
the voice and ear for all their duties, to exhibit tlie general laws 
ind analogies of pronunciation, showing how a large number of 
• oids should be pronounced, which are often spoken incorrectly. 

Anecdote. Stupidity. Said a testy law- 
yer, — " I believe i'azjury have been inocula- 
led for stupidity." " That may be," replied 
His opponent,' "but the bar, and the court, 
we of opinion, that you had it the natural 
way." 

O there are hours, aye moments, that contain 
Feelings, that years may pass, and never bring. 

The soul's dark cittage, battered, and decayed. 
UtiL lets in li& ht,\hro' rhinks, ih'*l time has made. 



Provei'bs. 1 . Jlway goes the devli whin Van 
door is shut against him. 2. A liar is not to be 
belie** «d when he speaks the truth. 3. Never 
speak ill of your neighbors. 4. Constant occu- 
pation, prevents temptation. 5. Courage — ought 
to have eyes, as well as ears. 6. Experience- 
keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in no 
other. 7 Follow the wise few, rather than the 
foolish many. 8. Good actions are the best sacri- 
fice. 9. He who avoids the temptation, avoidi 
the sin. 10. Knowledge— directs practice, yet 
practice increases knowledge. 

Duties. Never cease to avai. vo-utself of 
information: you must observe closely — 
read attentively, and digest what you read, — 
converse extensively with high and low, rich 
and poor, noble and ignoble, bond and free, — 
meditate closely and intensely on all the 
j=~nwiedge you acquire, and have it at per- 
fect commana. obtain mst conceptions of 
all you titter — and communicate ... .. y. 
in its proper order, and clothe it in the most 
agreeable and effective language. Avoid all 
redundancy of expression; be neither too 
close, nor too diffuse, — and, especially, be as 
perfect as possible, in that branch of oratory, 
wdiich Demosthenes declared to be the first, 
second,. and third parts of the science, — ac- 
tion, — god-like actiox, — which relates to 
every thing seen and heard in the orator. 
Elocution, — enables you, at all times, to 
command attention : its effect will be electric, 
and strike from heart to heart ; and he must 
be a mere declaimer, who does not feel hin 
self inspired — by the fostering meed of sucu 
approbation as mute attention, — and the re 
turn of his sentiments, fraught with the sym 
pathy of his audience. 

Varieties. 1. Have steamboats — been 
the occasion of more evil, than good? 2. 
Those that are idle, are generally troublesome 
to such as are industrious. 3. Plato says — 
God is truth, and light — is his shadow. 4. 
MaWnformation — is more hopeless than non- 
information; for error — is always mo ■ M 
cult to overcome than ignorance. 5. ffc, 
that will not reason, is a bigot ; he, that can 
not reason, is a fool; and he, who dares not 
reason, is a slave. 6. There is a great differ- 
ence between a well-spoken man and an ora- 
tor. 7. The Word of God — is divine, and, 
in its principles, infinite : no part can really 
contradict another part, or have a meaning 
opposite — to what it asserts as true ; although 
it may appear so in the letter: for the lettet 
killeth ; but the spirit — giveth life. 

They are sleeping! Who are sleeping 1 
Pause a moment, softly tread ; 

Anxious friends— are fondly keeping 
Vigils — by the sleeper's bed ! 

Other hopes have all forsaken, — 
One remains, — that slumber deepf 

Speak not, lest the slumberer waken 
From that sweet 4 that saving sleep. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



31 




54. A Diphthong, or double sound, is the 
union of two vowel sounds in one syllable, 
pronounced by a single continuous effort of 
the voice. There are four diphthongal 
sounds, in our language ; long i as in isle ; 
oi, in oil ; the pure, or long sound of u in 
lure, and ou in our ; which include the same 
sounds under the forms of long y in rhyme; 
of oy in coy; of ew in pew; and ow in how. 
These diphthongs are called pure, because 
they are all heard ; and in speaking and 
tinging, only the radical, (or opening full- 
ness of the sound,) should be prolonged, or 
«ung. 

55. Diphthongs. Oi and Oy : OIL , 
broil the joint of loin in poison \ i 
and oint -merit ; spoil not the oys- ■ n_ . 
ters for the hoy-den ; the boy / 
piieh-es quoits a-droit-ly on the 
soil, and sub-joins the joists to \ 

the pur -loins, and em-ploys the Qj 

de-stroy'd toi-let to soil the res- 

er-voir, lest he be cloy'd with his me-moirs. 

58. The lale Mr. Pitt, (Lord Chatham,) 
was taught to declaim, when a mere boy ; 
and was, even then, much admired for his 
talent in recitation : the result of which 
was, that his ease, grace, power, self-pos- 
tession, and imposing dignity, on his first 
appearance in the British Parliament, "drew 
audience and attention, still as night ;'' and 
the irresistible force of his action, and the 
power of his eye, carrried conviction with 
nis arguments. 

Notes. 1. The radical, or root of this diphthong, com- 
mences nearly with 3d a, as in all, and its vanish, or terminating 
point, with the name sound of e, as in eel ; the first of which is in- 
dicated by the engraving above. 2. Avoid the vulgar pronuncia- 
tion of ile., for oil; jice, for joist ; pint, for point; bile, for boil; 
j\rU, for joint; hist, for hoist; spile, for spoil; quate, for quoit; 
pur line, for pur-loin ; pt-zen, forpoi-son; brile, for broil; Clyde, 
for cloyed, &c: this sound, especially, when given with the jaw 
much dropped, and rounded lips, has in it a captivating nobleness; 
but beware of extremes. 3. The general rule for pronouncing the 
vowels is — they are open, continuous, or long, when final in ac- 
cented words and syllables; as a-ble, /a-ther, <uu-ful,me-tre,M-b!e, 
>K>-ble, moo-ted, tit-mult, frra-tal, pot-son, ou-ter-most; but they 
art shut, discrete, or short, when followed in the same syllable by 
a cousonant ; as, ap-ple, sev-er, lit-ile, poi-ter, but-ton, sym-pa-thy. 
Examples of exceptions — ale, are, all, file, note, tune, &c. 4. An- 
other general rule is — a vowel followed by two consonants, that 
are repeated in the pronunciation, is short : as, mat -ter, ped-lar, 
Jit ter, but-ler, &c. 

Anecdote. The king's evil. A student 
of medicine, while attending medical lec- 
tures in London, and the subject of this evil 
being on hand, observed — " that the king's 
evil had been but little known in the Unit- 
id States, since the Revolution. 

They are sleeping I Who are sleeping ? 

Misers, by their hoarded gold ; 
And, in fancy— now are heaping 

Gems and pearls— of price untold. 
Golden chains — their limbs encumber, 

Diamonds — seem before them strown ; 
But they waken from their slumber, 

And the splendid dream— is flown. 
Compare each phrase, examine every line, 
Weigh every word, and every thought refine. 



Proverbs. 1. Home is home, if it be ever s« 
homely. 2. It is too late to complain when a thing 
is done. 3. In a thousand pounds of law, there w 
not an ounce of love. 4. Many a true word is 
spoken in jest. 5. One man's meat is another 
man's poison. 6. Pride, perceiving humility - 
honorable, often borrows her cloke. 7. Say- 
well — is good ; but do-we\l— is better. 8. The 
eye, that sees all things, sees not itself. 9 Th» 
croa>— thinks her own birds the whitest. 10. The 
tears of Uie congregation are the praises of tint 
minister. 11. Evil to him that evil thinkt. IS 
Do good, If you expect to receive good. 

Our Food. The laws of man's constitit- 
tion and relation evidently show us, that the 
plainer, simpler and more natural our food 
is, the more pefectly these laws will be ful- 
filled, and the more healthy, vigorous, and 
long-lived our bodies will be, and consequent- 
ly the more perfect our senses will be, and 
the more active and powerful may the intel- 
lectual and moral faculties be rendered by 
cultivation. By this, is not meant that we 
should eat grass, like the ox, or confine our- 
selves to any one article of food : by simple 
food, is meant that which is not compounded, 
and complicated, and dressed with pungent 
stimulants, seasoning, or condiments ; such 
kind of food as the Creator designed for us, 
and in such condition as is best adapted to 
our anatomical and physiological powers. 
Some kinds of food are better than others, 
and adapted to sustain us in every condition ; 
and such, whatever they may be, (and we 
should ascertain what they are,) should con- 
stitute our sustenance.- thus shall we the 
more perfectly fulfil the laws of our being, 
and secure our best interests. 

Varieties. 1. Was Eve, literally, made 
out of A dam's rib? 2. He — is doubly a 
conqueror, who, when a conqueror, can con- 
quer himself. 3. People may be borne down 
by oppression for a time ; but, in the end, 
vengeance will surely overtake their oppres- 
sors. 4. It is a great misfortune — not to be 
able to speak well ; and a still greater one. 
not to know when to be silent. 5. In the 
hours of study, acquire knowledge that will 
be useful in after life. 6. Nature — reflects 
the light of revelation, as the moon does 
that of the sun. 7. Religion — is to be a? 
much like God, as men can be like him : 
hence, there is nothing more contrary to 
religion, than angry disputes and conlen 
tions about it. 
The pilgrim fathers— where are they ? 

The waves, that brought them o'er, 
Still roll in the bay, and throw their spray t 

As they break along the shore : — 
Still roll in the bay, as they roll'd that day, 

When the May Flower moor'd below ; 
When the sea around, was black with ston.s, 

And white the shore— with snow. 

By reason, man— a Godhead can discern : 
But how he should be worshiped, carnot /earn 



32 



mitfCII'LES OF ELOCUTION. 




5 7. There are no impure diphthongs or 
in which two or three vowels 
■:t, or unite, in one sound ; for all are 
tueni except one ; as in air, aunt, atol, pia*a, 
steal, lead, curtain, soar, good, your, cough, 
f. u-dal. dun-geon, beau-ty, a-d/ru, vtew-ing. 
These silent letters, in connection with the 
. should he called di-graphs and tri- 
graphs ; that is, doubly and triply written : 
neiimes merely indicate the sound 
ef the accompanying vowel, and the deriva- 
tion of the word. Let me beware of believ- 
ing anything, unless I can see that it is true: 
ana tor the evidence of truth, I will look at 
the truth itself. 

58. Diplitliongs; Ou, and Ow: OUR; 
Mr. Brown wound an ounce ot J, 
sound n-round a cloud, and ^* 
drowned a mouse in . nound of / 
sour chow-der; a r'row-sy 
mouse de-vour'd a houv and\ 
howl'd a po^-wow a-6ou* the \ 
moan-tains; the gou-Xy u."l 
crouched in his tow-er, and Vri-- scowl-ing 
cow bowed down de-vout-\y in fcu»r 6o«.'-er ; 
the giour (jower) en-s^?-o«cZ-ed in pow-ev, 
en-dow-ed the count's prow-ess with a re- 
nown'd trow-e\, and found him with a stout 
gown in the coun-Xy town. 

59. Demosthenes, the Grecian orator, 
paid many thousands to a teacher in Elocu- 
tion ; and Cicero, the Roma?i orator, after 
having completed his education, in other 
respects, spent two whole years in recitation, 
under one of the most celebrated tragedi- 
ans of antiquity. Brutus declared, that he 
would prefer the honor, of being esteemed 
the master of Roman eloquence, to the glo- 
iv of many triumphs. 

CO. IVotes. 1. Ou and ow are the only representatives 
if this dipththongal sound ; the former generally in the middle 
•4 w-jrdt, and the latter at the end: in How, show, and low, w 
h silent. 2. There are 12 mono-thongal vowels, or single voice 
ymnds, and 4 c/ipA-thongal vowels, or double voice sounds : these 
«re heard in isle, tune, oil and out. 5. There is a very incorrect 
»nd offensive sound given by some to this diphthong, particularly 
in the N'jrlhtrn states, in consequence of drawing the corners of 
(he mouth back, and keeping the teeth too close, \v\i\\s pronouncing 
it J it aiay be called a flat, nasal sound: in song it is worse 
than in speecli. It may be represented as follows — keou, neou, 
•'■■nin, ptour, deoun, ktounty, sheower, tyc. Good natured, 
people, living in cold climates, where they wish to keep 
l!ie mouth nearly closed, when talking, are often guilty of this vul- 
f-irity. It may be avoided by opening the mouth wide, projecting 
t!- ualer jaw and making the sound doep in the throat. 

Anecdote- Woman as she should be. A 
young woman went into a public library, in 
h. certain town, and asked for "Man as he is." 
"That is out, Miss," said the librarian; "but 
ive hove '■Woman as she should be.'" She 
took the booh and the hint too. 
Where are the heroes of the ages past : [ones 
Where the brave chieftains — where the mighty 
Who flourish'd in the infancy of days ? 
Ml to Wwqrave ijone down! — On their fall'n/awje, 
Kiultant, mocking at the pride of man, 
hits ^'rirn For net fulness. The warrior's arm 
Lies nerveless on the pillow of its shame : 
HusWdiH his stormy voice, and quenched the Maze 
l)f his red e«e-ba'|. 



Proverbs. 1. As you make your bed, so must 
you lie in it. 2. Be the character you would be 
called. 3. Choose a calling, th't is adapted to your 
inclination, and natural abilities. 4. Live— an*' 
let live ; i. e. do as you would be done oy. "> 
Character— is the measure of the nan. 6. Zeal- 
ously keep down little expenses, and you will 
not be likely to incur large ones. 7. Every one 
knows how to find fault. 8. Fair wo~ J ~ a,lu 
foul play cheat both y^ng and old. 9. Give a 
i\og an in name, and he will soon be shot 10. lie 
knows best what is good, who has endured er.ii. 
11. Great pai ns and little gains, soon niaxe man 
weary. 12. The fairest rose will wither <xi.iast. 

Cause and Effect. The evils, which 
afflict the country, are the joint productions 
of all parties and all classes. They have 
been produced by over-banking, over-trad- 
ing, over- spending, over-da siring, over-dri- 
ving, over-reaching, over-borrowing, over- 
eating, over -drinking, over -thi7iking, over- 
playing, over-riding, and over-acting ot 
every kind and description, except over 
working. Industry is the foundation of so 
ciety, and the coraer-stone of civilization. 

Recipients. We receive according to our 
states of mind and life : if we are in the love 
and practice of goodness and truth, we be- 
come the receivers of them in that propor 
tion ; but if otherwise, we form receptacles 
of their opposites,— -falsity and evil. When 
we are under heavenly influences, we know 
that all things shall work together for our 
happiness ; and when under infernal influ 
ences, they will work tog-ether for our mis' 
ery. Let us then choose, this day, whom we 
will serve ; and then shall we know — where 
in consists the art of happiness, and the art 
of misery. 

Varieties. 1. Is not the single fact, that 
the human mind has thought of another 
world, good proof that there is one 1 2. Tol- 
eration — is good for all, or it is good for 
none. 3. He who swallows up the sub- 
stance of the poor, will, in the end, find that 
it contains a bone, which will choice him. 4. 
The greatest share of happiness is enjoyed 
by those, who possess affluence, without su 
perfluity, and can command the comforts ol 
life, without plunging into its luxuries. 5. Do 
not suppose that every thing is gold, which 
glitters; build not your hopes on a sandy 
foundation. 6. The world seems divided 
into two great classes, agitators and the non- 
agitators : why should those, who are estab 
lished on the immutable rock of truth, fear 
agitation] 7. True humiliation — is a pear, 
of great price ; for where there is no resist- 
ance, or obstacle, there, — heaven, and its in- 
fluences must enter, enlighten, teach, purify t 
create and support. 

The only prison, th't enslaves the soul, 
Is the dark habitation, where she dwell*, 
As in a noisome dungeon. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



33 



59« Reading — l>y vowel sounds only, is 
analagous to singing by note, instead of by 
word. This is an exceedingly interesting 
and important exercise: it is done, simply, 
by omitting the ca isonants, and pronounc- 
ing the vowels, the sime as in their respec- 
tive words First, j) *onounce one or more 
words, and then n>pronounce them, and 
leave oif the conson ants. The vowels con- 
stitute the essence of words, and the conso- 
nants give that ma ferial the proper form. 

60 All the vowel sounds, thrice told, — 
James Parr; Hall Mann; EvePrest; Ike Sill; 
Old Pool Forbs; Luke Munn Bull; Hoyle 
Prout — ate palms walnuts apples, peaches 
melons, ripe figs, cocoas goosbcrries hops, 
cucumbers prunes, and boiled sour-crout, to 
their entire satisfac tion. Ale, all, all, at ; 
eel, ell; isle, ill; old, ooze, on; nmte, 
up, full ; oil, oioi ce. Now repeat all these 
vowel sounds consecutively, : A, A, A, A ; 
E, E; I, I; 0, 0, 0; U,U,U; Oi. Ou. 

61. Elocution — comprehends Expulsion of 
Sound, Articulation., Force, Time, Pronunci- 
ation, Accent, Pauses, Measure and Melody 
of Speech, P^hythm, Emphasis, the Eight 
Notes, Intonation, Pitch, Inflexions, Circum- 
flexes. Cadences, Dynamics, Modulation, 
Style, the Passions, and Rhetorical Action. 
Reading and Speaking are inseparably con- 
nected with music ; hence, every step taken 
in the former, according to this system, will 
advance one equally in the latter : for Music 
is but an elegant and refined species of Elo- 
cution. 

62. Certain vowels to be prtoxouNCEn 
separately. In reading the following, be 
very deliberate, so as to shape the sounds per- 
fectly, and give each syllable clearly and dis- 
tinctly ; and in all the ex-am-ples, here and 
elsewhere, make those sounds, that are ob- 
jects of attention, very prominent. J3a-al, 
the o-ri-ent a-e-ro-naut and cham-pl-on ofji- 
er-y scor-pi-ons,. took his a-e-ri-al flight into 
the ge-o-mef-ri-cal em-py-re-an, and drop- 
ped a t>eau-tj-fu\ n-o-let into the Ap-pi-i Fo- 
rum, where they sung hy-me-we-al re-qui- 
ems ; Be-eZ-ze-bub m-o-lent-ly rent the va-ri- 
e-ga-ted rfi-a-dem from his zo-o-Zo°--i-cal cra- 
m-urn, and placed it on the Eu-ro-pe-an ge- 
ni-i, to me-li-o-rate their to-cho-ate i-de-a. of 
eu-ring the _pi/-e-ous m-\tal-ids of Mm-tu-a 
and Pora-pe-i, with the tri-e>?-ni-al pan-a-ce-a 
of no-o^-o-gy, or the Zwi-s-a-ment of a-ri-es. 

Notes. 1. The constituent diphthongal sounds of /are near- 
«» 3d a, and. 1st e; those of u, approach to 2d e, and 2d o: those of 
oi, to 3d a, and 2d i : and those of ou to 3d o, and 2d o : make and 
»n»!yze them , and observe the fiiSEte! shape of the lips, which 
tl*»g& with the changing sounds in passing from the radicals to 
Bifir vanishes. 2. Preventives and curatives of incipient disease, 
»iy he found in these principles, posuions and exercues. 

Zjovcliness — 
Needs not the aid of fcreign ornament ; 
Eut is. when ?<natlornpd adorned the most. 
BRONSON. 3 



Proverbs. 1. A man is no belter for liking 
himself, if nobody else likes him. 2. A white 
glove often conceals a dirty hand. 3. Bettf.r pasa 
at once, than to be always in danger. 4. Misun- 
derstandings — are often best prevented, by pen 
and ink. 5. Knowledge is treasure, and memory 
is the treasury. 6. Crosses— are ladders, lead- 
ing to heaven. 7. Faint praise, is disparagement 
8. Deliver me from a person, who can talk only 
on one subject. 9. He who peeps throgh a key- 
hole may see what will ve" him. 10. If shrewd 
men play the fool, they do it with a vengeance. 
11. Physicians rarely take medicines. 12. Curses, 
like chickens, generally come home to roost. 

Anecdote. A get-off. Henry the Fourth 
was instigated to propose war against the 
Protestants, by the importunity of his Par- 
liament ; whereupon, he declared that he 
would make every member a captain of a 
company in the army : the proposal was 
rthen unanimously negatived. 

Contrasts. Our fair ladies laugh at the 
Chinese ladies, for depriving themselves 
of the use of their feet, by tight shoes and 
bandages, and whose character would be 
ruined in the estimation of their associates, 
if they were even suspected of being able 
to walk : — while they, by the mere danger- 
ous and destructive habits of tight-lacing, 
destroy functions of the body far more im- 
portant, not only to themselves, but to their 
offspring ; and whole troops of dandies, 
quite as taper-wnisted, and almost as mas' 
culine as their mothers, are the natural re- 
sults of such a gross absurdity. If to be 
admired — is the motive of such a custom, it 
is a most paradoxical mode of accomplish- 
ing this end ; for that which is destructive 
of health, must be more destructive of beau- 
ty — that beauty, in a vain effort to preserve 
which, the victims of this fashion have de- 
voted themselves to a joyless youth, and a 
premature decrepitude, 

"Vari eties. 1 . Is it best to divulge the truth 
to all, whatever may be their state of mind 
and life 1 2. A good tale — is never the worse 
for being twice told. 3. Those who do not 
love any thing, rarely experience great enjoy- 
ments ; those who do love, often suffer deep 
griefs. 4. The way to heaven is delightful 
to those who love to walk in it ; and the diffi- 
culties we meet with in endeavoring to keep 
it, do not spring from the nature of the way, 
but from the state of the traveler. 5. He, 
who wishes nothing, will gain nothing. 6. It 
is good to know a great deal ; but it is better 
to make a good use of what we do know. 7. 
Every day — brings forth something for the 
mind to be exercised on, either of a mental, 
or external character ; and to be faithful in 
it, and acquit ourselves with the advantaga 
derived thereby, is both wisdom and duty 
Whether he knew things, or no. 
His tongue eternally would go ; 
For he had impudence— at will. 



84 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



03. Elocution and Music being insepar- 
able in their nature, every one, of common 
organization, whither aware oi' it, or not, 
uses all the elements of -Music in his daily 
intercourse with society. When we call to 
one at a distance, we raise the voice to the 
upper pitches: when to one near by, we 
drop it to the lower pitches ; and when at a 
medium distance, we raise it to the middle 
pitches : that is. in the first case, the voice 
is on, or about the eighth note : in the sec- 
ond, on, or about theirs* note : and in the 
last place, on, or about the third or fifth 
note. In commencing to read or speak in 
public, one should never commence above 
his fifth note, or below his third note : and, 
to ascertain on what particular pitch the 
lowest natural note of the voice is, pro- 
nounce the w>rd awe, by prolonging it, 
without feeling ; and to get the upper one, 
sound eel, strongly. 

64r. "Vocal Music. In the vowel sounds 
of our language, are involved all the ele- 
ments of music; hence, every one who 
wishes, can leTirn to sing. These eight 
vowels, when naturally sounded, by a de- 
veloped voice, will give the intonations of 
the notes in the scale, as follows , com- 
mencing at the bottom. 
lit e in eel, 8 — O 

1st i in Isle, 7 — O— 



Hi o in ooze, 6 

let oin old, 5 

4th a in at, 4 
let a in ale, 3 

2d a in ar, 2 



— O— 



— O- 



-o— 



-o- 



C note 0-8-1&- High. 
Half tone. 

B note— 



Tone. 



A note — 

Tone. 

Gnote O-5-la.-Medium. 
Tone. 



P note 

Half tone. 

EnoteO-3-1 



•Medium. 



T> note- 
Tone i 



3d a in all, 1 — O— C note O-1-la-Zow. 

65. This Diatonic Scale of eight notes, 
(though there are but seven, the eighth being 
a repetition of the first,) comprehends five 
whole tones, and two semi, or half tones. 
An erect ladder, with seven rounds, is a 
good representation ~A it ; it stands on the 
ground, or floor, which is the tonic, or first 
note ; the fir3t round is the second note, or 
tupertonic ; the second round is the third 
note, or mediant ; the third round, is the 
fourth note, or subdominant ; between 
which, and the second round, there is a 
semitone ; the fourth round is the fifth note, 
©r dominant ; the fifth round is the sixth 
note, or suhmediant ; the sixth round is the 
teventh note, or sublonic ; and the seventh 
round is the eighth note, or octave. 

Feep one consistent plan— from end— to end. 



Notes. 1. In Seng, as well n 



in Speech, the Articulation, 



Pitch, Force, and Time, must be atte.i 1 d to ; i. e. in both arts, mas- 
ter the right form of the elements, the decree of elevation ami de- 
pression of the voice, the kind and, di ;;ree of loudness of sounds, 
and Hu-ir duration: there is nothing i.i singing that may not be 
found in speaking. 

Anecdote. Musical P-un. AyoungAfu- 
siciatr, remarkable fc hit; modesty and sin- 
cerity, on his first appearance before the pub- 
lic, finding that he could not give the trills* 
effectively, assured the audience, by vay of 
apology, " that lie trembled so, that he could 
not shake. 

Proverbs. 1. A word— is enough to the wise, 
2. It is easier to resist our bad passions at first, 
than afte indulgence. 3. Jokes — are bad coin 
to all but the jocular. 4. ^You may find your 
worst enemy, or best friend—in yourself. 5. Ev- 
ery one has his hobby. 6. F\)ols— have liberty to 
say what they please. 7. Give every one his due. 
8. He who wants content, cannot find it in an 
easy chair. 9. Ill-will neVer spoke well. 10. 
Lawyer's gowns are lined wjith the wilfulness of 
their clients. 11. Hunger— is an excellent sauce. 
12. I confide, and am at rest. 

True Wisdom. All have the faculty 
given them of growing wise, but not equal- 
ly wise : by which faculty is not meant the 
ability to reason about truth and goodness 
from the sciences, and thus of confirming 
whatever any one pleases ; but that of dis- 
cerning what is true, choosing what is suit- 
able, and applying it to the various uses of 
life. He is not the richest man, who is able 
to comprehend all about making money, and 
can count millions of dollars ; but he, who 
is in possession of millions, and makes a 



proper use of them. 

Varieties. 1. Does; not life — beget life, 
and death — generate death ? 2. The man, 
who is always complaining, and bewailing 
his misfortunes, not oidy feeds his own mis- 
ery, but wearies and disgusts others. 3. 
We are apt to regulati: our mode of living — 
more by the example of others, than by the 
dictates of reason and common sense. 4. 
Frequent recourse ;o artifice and cunning — 
is a proof of a want of capacity, as well as 
of an illiberal mivd. 5. Every one, who 
does not grow better, as he grows older, is a 
spendthrift of that time, which is more pre- 
cious than gold. 6. Do what you know, 
and you will know what to do. 7. As i9 
the reception of truths, such is the percep. 
tion of them in all minds. 8. Do you see 
more than your brother ? then be more 
humble and thankful; hurt not him with 
t-hy meal, and strong food : when a man, he 
will be as able to eat it as yourself, and, 
perhaps, more so. 

Walk with thy fellow creatures : note the hush 
And whisperings amongst them. Not a spring 
Or leaf— but hath his momiiig hymn ; each busk 
And oak— doth know I am. Canst thou not sing ! 
O leave thy cares andfolli&s t go this way, 
And thou art sure to prosper— all the day. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



35 






66. The twenty-eignt consonant 
sounds. For the purpose of still farther 
developing and training the voice, and ear, 
for reading, speaking, and singing, a system- 
atic, and thorough practice, on the twenty- 
eight consonants, is absolutely essential : in 
which exercises, it is of the first importance, 
to make the effort properly, and observe the 
exact positions of the organs. These conso- 
nants are either single, double, or triple; 
and some of them are vocal sounds, {sub-ton- 
ics, or sub-vowels,) others, merely aspirates, 
breath sounds or atonies : let them be analy- 
zed and presented according to their natures, 
and uses. 

67. B has out one sound, which is 
its name sound: B A ; baa, i^iL/ 
balL bat; be, beg; bide, bid; 
bode, boon, boss ; bute, bus: 
brute ; boil, bound ; a rob-in im 
bibed blub-bevs from a bob-bin, [B in ba.] 
and g-o6-bled for cao-bage ; the rofr-ber blab- 
bed oar-ba-rous-ly, and bam-fcoo-zled the 
tab-by na-bob ; Ja-cob dab-bled in rib- 
bons, and played hob-nob with a co^-ler ; 
the bab-oon fea-by gab-bled its g7&-ber-ish, 
and made a hub-bub for its bib and black- 
ber-ries; the rabble's hob-by is, to brow- 
beat the bram-ble bushes for 6i7-ber-ries, and 
bribe the ooo-by of his bom-oas-tic black- 
bird. 

68. By obtaining correct ideas of the 
sounds of our letters, and their influences 
over each other ; of the meaning and pro- 
nunciation of words, and their power over 
the understanding and will of man, when 
properly arranged into sentences, teeming 
with correct thought and genuine feeling, 
I may, with proper application and exercise, 
become a good reader, speaker, and writer. 

Notes. 1. To get the vocal sound of b, »peak its name, 
be, and then make a strong effort to pronounce it again, compress- 
ing the lips closely ; and the moment you give the sound of be, 
when you get to e, stop, and you will have the right sound j or, 
pronounce ub, in the usual way, then, with the teeth shut, and the 
lips very close, prolonging the last sound ; and, in both cases, let 
none of the sound of J, come into the mouth, or pass through the 
nose. 2. It was in analyzing and practicing the sounds of the let- 
ters, and the different pitches and qualities of voice, that the author 
became acquainted with the principles of VENTRILOQUISM, (or 
vocal modulation, as it should be called,) which art is perfectly 
simple, and can be acquired and practiced by almost any one of 
common organization. Begin by swallowing the sound, suppress- 
ing and depressing it. 3. B is silent in delt, sufct-le, douit, lamt, 
tomb, dumi, thumi, limi, crumfc, sutt-Ie-ty, suc-curai, Mell-ium. 

Anecdote. A beautiful English countess 
said, that the most agreeable compliment she 
ever had paid her, was from a sailor in the 
stieet; who looked at her, as if fascinated, 
and exclaimed, "Bless me I let me light my 
pipe at your eyes." 

We rise — in glory, as we sink — in pride ; 
Where boasting— ends, there dignity— begins. 
The true, and only friend— is he, 
Who, like the Arbor-vita true, 
W T ill bear our image — on hi3 heart. 
Whatever is excellent, in art, proceeds 
From labor and endurance. 



Proverbs. 1. Gentility, sent to market, will 
not buy even a peck of corn. 2 lie, that is 
warm, thinks others so. 3. A true friend — should 
venture, sometimes, to be a little offensive. 4. It 
is easy to take a man's part ; but the difficulty is 
to maintain, it. 5. Misfortunes — seldom ccme 
alone. 6. Never quit certainty — for hope. 7. One 
— beats the bush, and another — catches the bird. 
8. Plough, or not plough,— you must ; ay you* 
rent. 9; Rome— was not built in a day. 10. Seek 
till you find, and you will not lose yci'r labor. 
11. An oak — is not felled by one stroke. 12. A 
display of courage — often causes real cowardice. 

Party Spirit. The spirit of party — un- 
questionably, has its source in some of tha 
native passions of the heart ; and free gov- 
ernments naturally furnish more of its alv> 
ment, than those under which liberty of 
speech, and of the pj-ess is restrained, by the 
strong arm of power. But so naturally does 
party run into extremes; so unjust, cruel, 
and remorseless is it in its excess ; so ruthless 
is the war which it wages against private 
character ; so unscrupulous in the choice 
of means for the attainment of selfish ends ; 
so sure is it, eventually, to dig the grave of 
those free institutions of which it pretendi 
to be the necessary accompaniments ; so inev 
itably does it end in military despotism, and 
unmitigated tyrany „• that I do not know 
how the voice and influence of a good man 
could, with more propriety, be exerted, than 
in the effort to assuage its violence. 

Varieties. 1. Are our ideas innate, or ac- 
quired ? 2. The mind that is conscious of 
its own rectitude, disregards the lies of com- 
mon report. 3. Same — are very liberal, 
even to profuseness, when they can be so at 
the expense of others. 4. There are pure 
loves, else, there were no white lilies. 5. The 
glory of wealth and external beauty — is 
transitory ; but virtue — is everlasting. 6. 
We soon acquire the habits and practices, of 
those we live with ; hence the importance of 
associating with the best company, and of 
carefullj- avoiding such as may corrupt and 
debase us. 7- The present state is totally 
different from what men suppose, and make, 
of it; the reason of our existence — is our 
growth in the life of heaven ; and all things 
are moved and conspire unto it; and great 
might be the produce, if we were faithful to 
the ordinances of heaven. 

Ik eastern lands, they talk in flower's, 
And they tell, in a garland, their love and cares ; 

Each blossom, th't blooms in their garden bow- 
ers, 
On its leaves, a mystic language bears ; 

Then gather a wreath from the garden bowers, 

And tell the wish of thy heart— in flowers. 

Praise, from a friend, or censure, from a res, 

Is lost— on hearers th't our merits know. 
As full as an egg is of meat. 



36 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



»;«). Tktoe arts, like all others, are made 
many liltl* things; it 1 look torZZ to 
lh< 111, all difficulties will vanish, or be easily 
;?. Every jrouth ought to blush at 
• lie thought, of remaining ignorant, of the 
firs! principles of his native language. I 
(in do olrnosi any thing, if I only think so, 
and try ; therefore, let me not say I can't ; 

but I WILL. 

TO. C lias four regular sounds : first. 
kvhg. sound, or that of s, be- 
fore e. i, and y ; cede, ct-on, cy- ///- 
press; rec-i-pe for ceZ-i-ba-cy (r^5 
in the cit-y of Cin-cin-?m-ti is \\ 
a /(/.«-ci-nai-ing soZ-ace for «»-il [C in cede.] 

-ty; Ctc-e-ro and Ce-ctZ-i-as, with 
tuc-h re-ci-proc-i-ly di-Zac-er-ate the a-cid 
pt/m-\cc with the /a-cile pin-cers of the 
vice-ge-rency ; the a-ces-cen-cy of the cit- 
rons in the ;;Za-cid ceZ-lar, and the im-frec-iie 
/iV-o-rice on the cor-nice of the ^rec-i-pice 
ox-cite the Jis-ci-pline of the doc-ile di-oc- 
e-san. 

71. Lisping — is caused by permitting the 
tongue to come against, or between the iront 
teeth, when it should not ; thus, substituting 
the breath sound of tb for that of s or sn. 
This bad habit may be avoided or overcome 
by practicing the above and similar com- 
binations; with the teeth closely and firmly 
set not allowing the tongue to press against 
the teeth, nor making the effort too near the 
front part of the mouth. The object to be 
attained is worthy of great efforts : many 
can be taught to do a thing, in a proper 
manner, which they would never find out 
of themselves. 

72. Irregulars. »S often has this sound ; 
rise and pro-gress. The pre-nse Sal-lust, 
starts on stilts, and assists the earths in the 
u-ni-verse for con-science 1 sake : he spits 
base brass and subsists on stripes ; the 
ma-gu-trates sought ; So-lus boasts he 
twists the texts and suits the several 
sects ; the strong masts stood still in the fi- 
nest streets of Syr-a-cwse ; Se-sos-tris, still 
.strutting, persists the Swiss ship is sunk, 
while ssveetness sits smiling on tke lips. 
Swan, swam over the sea; well swum 
swan ; swan swam back again ; well swum 
swan. Sam Slick sawed six sleek slim 
elippery saplings. Amidst the mists he 
inrusts his fists against the posts, and ro- 
be sees the ghosts in Sixth street. 

.Voles. 1. ,S' has the alwe sound, a< the beginning of 

I oilier situation*, when preceded or followed by an 

i n-i;>t, or a breath consonant. 2. To make this aspirate, place 

liiz organ* ax in the engraving and begin to whisper the word see; 

««t five none of the sound of e. Never permit sounds to coalesce, 

feat ought to be heard distinctly; hosts, costs, &c. 4. Don't let 

t)» teeth remain together ajD instant, after the sound is made j 

brfag them quite together. 5. C is silent in the follow- 

. .irbusclea, victuals. Czarina, ( i long e,) muscle, indicia- 

ei'-, and second c in Connecticut 

J 'ear, then, my argument ; confess we must, 

A Ood there is — supremely just ; 

1/ «o, however tn:n?fl affect our sight, 

( Ab sings the bard, ) " whatever, is— is right." 

As the wind blows, you must sot your sail. 

Oood measure, prsssed dow/iand running over. 



Proverbs. 1. Building- As a srveet impov 
trishing. 2. Unmanlinesa — is not so impolite, at 
over -politeness. 3. Death— is deaf, ami hears 
no denial. 4. Every good scholar is not a good 
sclioul master. 5. Fair words break no bones ; 
but foul words many a one. 6. He, who has 
not bread to spare, should not keep a dog. 7. If 
you had fewer pretended friends, and more ene- 
mies, you would have been a better man. 3. 
Lean liberty — is better than fat slavery. 9. 
Much coin — much care; much meat— much mal- 
ady. 10. The submitting to one wrong— often 
brings another. 11. Consult your purse, before 
you do fancy. 12. Do what you ought, come 
what will 

Anecdote. The Psalter. The Rev. Mr. 
M — , paid his devoirs to a lady, who was pre- 
possessed in favor of a Mr. Psalter : her par- 
tiality being very evident, the former took 
occasion to ask, (in a room full of company,) 
" Pray Miss, how far have you got in your 
Psalter ? " The lady archly replied, — As far 
as " Blessed is the man." 

Book Keeping — is the art of keeping 
accounts by the way of debt and credit. It 
teaches us all business transactions, in an 
exact manner, so that, at any time, the true 
state of our dealings may be easily known. 
Its principles are simple, its conclusions nat- 
ural and certain, and the proportion of its 
parts complete. The person, who buy's or 
receives, is Dr. [Debtor,) the one who sells, or 
parts with any thing, is Cr. {Creditor:) that 
is, Dr. means your charges against the per- 
son; and Cr. his against you : therefore, when 
you sell an article, in charging it, say, " To 
so and so," ( mentioning the article, weight, 
quantity, number, amount, &c. ) " so much :" 
but when you buy, or receive any thing, in 
giving credit for it, say, By so and so ; men 
tioning particulars as before. A knowledge 
of Book-keeping is important to every one 
who is engaged in any kind of business ; 
and it must be evident, that for the want of 
it — many losses have been sustained, great 
injustice done, and many law-suits entaded. 

Varieties. 1. Ought lotteries to be abol- 
ished"? 2. Carking cares, and anxious ap- 
prehensions are injurious to body and mind. 
3. A good education — is a young man's best 
capital. 4. He, that is slow to wrath, is better 
than the mighty. 5. Three difficult things 
are — to keep a secret, to forget an injury, 
and make good use of leisure hours. 6. If 
one speaks from an evil affection, he may 
influence, but not enlighten ,• he may cause 
blind acquiescence, but not action from a 
conscious sense of right. 7. Men have just 
so much of life in them, as they have of pure 
truth and its good — implanted and growing 
in them. 

Would you live an angel's day\ ? 

Be honest, just, and wise, always. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



37 




[C in CAR.] 



73. A perfect knowledge of these ele- 
mentary and combined sounds, is essential to 
my becoming a good elocutionist, and is an 
excellent preparation for studying any of 
the modern languages : I must master 
them, or I cannot succeed in acquiring a 
distinct, appropriate, graceful and effective 
enunciation ; but resolution, self-exertion 
and perseverance are almost omnipotent : I 
will try them and see. 

74. The second sound of C, is hard, 
or like k, before a,o,u,k,l,r, 
t ; and generally at the end of 
words and syllables. Came, car, 
call, cap ; cove, coon, cot ; cute 
cut, crude; coil, cloud; Clark 
comes to catch clams, crabs and 
craw-fish to cram his cow ; the croak-iug 
scep-Xic, in xac-coon moc-a-sins, suc-cicmbs 
to the arc-tic spec-ta-cle, and ac-com-mo- 
dates his ac-counts to the oc-cwZ* stuc-co of 
the e-cZip-tic ; the crowd claims the clocks, 
and climbs the cliffs to clutch the crows that 
craunched the bu-coZ-ics of the mi-cro-cosm. 

75. The chest should be comparatively 
quiescent, in breathing, speaking and sing- 
ing ; and the dorsal and abdominal muscles 
be principally used for these purposes. All 
children are naturally right, in this particu- 
lar ; but they become perverted, during 
their primary education : hence, the author 
introduces an entirely new mode of learning 
the letters, of spelling, and of teaching to 
read without a book, and then with a book ; 
the same as we learn to talk. The effort — 
to produce sounds, and to breathe, must be 
made from the lower muscles, above alluded 
to : thus by the practice of expelling, ( not 
exploding) the vowel sounds, we return to 
truth and nature. 

76. Irregulars. Ch often have this 
sound ; (the h is silent ; ) also q and k — always 
when not silent ; the queer co- quette kicks 
the chi-mer-i-cal ar-chi-tect, for ca^-e-chi- 
sing the crif-i-cal choir about the char- 
ac-ter of the chro-ma«-ic c/io-rus ; Tich-'x- 
cus Schenck, the quid-nunc me-cAara-ic of 
Mu-nich, qui-et-ly quits the ar-chieves 
of the Tus-can mosque, on ac-count of the 
ca-chex-y of cac-o-tech-ny ; the piq-uant 
cr^-ic quaked at the quilt-ing, and asked 
ques-tions of the quorum of quil-ters. 

77. The expression of affection is the 
legitimate function of sound, which is an el- 
ement prior to, and within language. The 
affections produce the varieties of sound, 
whether of joy or of grief ; and sound, in 
speech, manifests both the quality and quan- 
tity of the affection : hence, all the music is 
in the vowel sounds : because, all music is 
from the affectuous part of the mind, and 
vowels are its only mediums of manifesta- 
tion. As music proceeds from affection and 
is addressed to the affection, a person does 
not truly sing, unless he sings from affec- 
tion; nor does a person truly listen, and 
derive the greatest enjoyment from the mu- 
sic, unless he yields himself fully to the af- 
fection, which the music inspires. 



Notes- 1. Tn produce this gutteral aspirate, -a his<«r tha 
imaginary word hul,(u short;) or the word book, in a wbjipsr- 
ing voice, and the last sound is the one required : the posterior, or 
root of the tongue being pressed against the uvula, or veil of Ui« 
palate. 2. Observe the difference between the names of Mtev 
and their peculiar sounds. In giving the names of consonants, 
we use one, or more vowels, which make no part of the consonant 
sound ; thus, we call the letter C by the name see ; but the ee 
make no part of its sound, which is simply a hiss, made by forc- 
ing the air from the lungs, through the teeth, when they are shut, 
as indicated by the engraving ; similar facts attend the other conso- 
nants. 3. H, is silent before n ; — as the fcnavish Anight toucklcd 
and feneeled to the fcnit fenobs of the knees' ftnick-Jliiacks, &c. j 
Gh have this sound in lough, {lock, a lake; Irish; ) hough, (/«<*, 
joint of a hind leg of a beast. ) 

Proverbs. 1. Every dog has his day, and 
every man his hour. 2. Forbid a fool a thipg, 
and he'll do it. 3. He must rise tetimes, that 
would please every body. 4. It is a long lane 
that has no turning. 5. Judge not of a ship, 
as she lies on the stocks. 6. Let them laugh 
that win. 7. No great loss but there is some 
/small gain. 8. Never too old to learn. 9. No 
condition so low, but may have hopes ; and none 
so high, but may have fears. 10. The wise man 
thinks he knows but little; the fool— thinks he 
knows all. 11. Idleness — is the mother of vice. 
12. When liquor is in, sense — is out. 

Anecdote. William Penn — and Thomas 
Story, on the approach of a shower, took 
shelter in a tobacco -house ; the owner of 
which — happened to be within : he said to 
the traveler, — "You enter without leave,- — 
do you know who lam ? I am a Justice of 
the Peace." To which Mr. Story replied — 
"My friend here — makes such things as 
thee ; — he is Governor of Pennsylvania." 

Eternal Progress. It is not only com- 
forting, but encouraging, to think that 
mind — is awaking ; that there is universal 
progress. Men are borne onward, — wheth- 
er they will or not. It does not matter, 
whether they believe that it is an impulse 
from within, or above, that impels them for- 
ward ; or, whether they acknowledge that 
it is the onward tendency of things, con- 
trolled by Divine Providence : onward they 
must go ; and, in time, they will be blessed 
with a clearness of vision, that will leave 
them at no loss for the whys and the where 
fores. 

Varieties. 1. To pay great attention to 
trifles, is a sure sign of a little mind. 2. 
Which is worse, a bad education, or no edu- 
cation 1 3. The mind must be occasionally 
indulged with relaxation, that it may return 
to study and reflection with increased vigor. 

4. Love, and love only, is the loan for love. 

5. To reform measures, there must be a 
change of men. 6. Sudden and violent 
changes — are not often productive of advan* 
tage — to either church, state or individual. 
7. True and sound reason — must ever ac- 
cord with scripture : he who appeals to one % 
must appeal to the other; for the word 
within us, and the word without us— are 
one, and bear testimony to each other. 



38 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



7S. T!it so punciples must be faithfully 
' ami practiced^ with a particular refer- 
ence to the expulsion of the short vowel 
sounds, and the prolongation of the long 
ones; which exhibit quantity in its elementa- 
ry state. I must exercise my voice and mind, 
i:i every useful way, and labor to attain an 
intimate knowledge of my vocal and mental 
capacity ; then I shall be able to see any de- 
fects, and govern myself accordingly. 

79. The third sound of C, is like that 
of Z : suffice ; the discerner at 
sice, dis-cem-i-bly dis-cerns dis- / 
cmz-i-blc things with dis-emz-ing ( r* 
dis-cem-ment, and dis-cmi-i-ble- ^ 
aess; the sac-ri-fi-cer, in sac-ri-fi- l c in SIC E-] 
cing, sac-ri-fi-ces the sae-ri-fice on the altar 
of sao-ri-fice, and suf-fi-ceth the law of sac- 
ri-fice. These are nearly all the words in 
our language, in which c, sounds like z. 

80. Vowels — are the mediums of convey- 
ing the affections, which impart life and 
warmth to speech ; and consonants, of the 
thoughts, which give light and form to it ; 
hence, all letters that are not silent, should 
be given fully and distinctly. The reason — 
why the brute creation cannot speak, is, be- 
cause they have no understanding, as men 
Iiave; consequently, no thoughts, and of 
course, no articulating organs: therefore, 
they merely sound their affections, instead 
of speaking them ; being guided and influ- 
enced by instinct, which is a power given 
them for their preservation and continuance. 

81. Irregulars. S,£, andX, sometimes 
are thus pronounced ; as, the pm-i-dent re- 
signs his ib-o-la-ted houses, and ab-sofoes the 
greasy hussars of is-lam-ism ; the puz-z\er 
ptcz-zles his brains with rza-sal pains, huz-zes 
about the trees as much as he pleases, and 
resumes the zig-zag giz-za.vds of Xerx-es 
with dis-so^ving huz-za.s ; -Xarc-thus and 
Xm-o-phon dis-band the pis-mires, which 
dis-dsda to dis-g-tme their dis-msl phiz-es 
with their gris-ly beards ; Zion's zeal breathes 
zeph-yrs upon the paths of truths, where re- 
& ides the soul, which loves the tones of rnu- 
aic corning up from Nature's res-o-nant 
rem-ples. 

Notes. 1. This voral diphthongal sound is made by clos- 
iBg the teeth, as in making the name sound of C, and producing 
the 2d sound of a in the larynx, ending with a hissing sound; or it 
may be made by drawing out the sound of z in z- - -est. 2. >5, 
Mowing a vocal consonant, generally sounds like Z: tubs, adds; 
ttrgf ; needs ; pens; cars, &c ; but following an aspirate, or breath 
euunonaat, it sounds like c in cent, facts, dps, muffs, crarks, &c. 

Would you taste the tranquil scene 1 

Be sure — your bosom be serene : 

Devoid of hate, devoid of strife, 

Devoid of all, th't poisons life. 

And much it 'vails you— in their place, 

To graft the love of human race. 
Be al ways as nv.rry as ever you can, 
i ur »w un teUfbtl in a Mrowjal xdno. 



83. The perfection of music, as well ai 
of speech, depends upon giving the full and 
free expression of our thoughts and affec- 
tions, so as to produce corresponding ones in 
the minds of others. This is not the work of 
a day, a month, or a year ,- but of a life ; for 
it implies the full development of mind and 
body. The present age presents only a fain 
idea, of what music and oratory are capable 
of becoming ; for we are surrounded, and 
loaded, with almost as many bad habits 
(which prevent the perfect cultivation of hu- 
manity,) as an Egyptian mummy is of folda 
of linen. Let the axe of truth, of principle, 
be laid at the root of every tree that does not 
bring forth good fruit. Which do we jike 
better — error, or truth ? 

Proverhs. 1. A man may be strong, and 
not mow well. 2. It is easier to keep out a bad 
associate, than to get rid of him, after he has 
been admitted. 3. Consider well what you do, 
whence you come, and whither you go. 4. Ev- 
ery fool can find faults, that a great many wise 
men cannot mend. 5. He who follows his own 
advice, must take the consequences. 6. In giv- 
ing, and taking, it is easy mistaking. 7. Letters 
do not blush. 8. Murder — will out. 9. Nothing 
that is violent — is permanent. 10. Old foxes want 
no tutors. 11. The first chapter of fools is, to 
esteem themselves wise. 12. God — tempers the 
wind — to the shorn lamb. 

Anecdote, poctor-'em. A physician, 
having been out gaming, but without success, 
his servant said, he would go into the next 
field, and if the birds were there, he would 
1 doctor-'' em.'* " Doctor-'em, — what do you 
mean by thatl" inquired his master: 
" Why, kill 'em, to be-sure," — replied the 
servant. 

Varieties. 1. Which has caused most 
evil, intemperance, war, or famine ? 2. 
Power, acquired by guilty means, never 
was, and never will be exercised — to pro 
mote good ends. 3. By applying ourselves 
diligently to any art, science, trade, or pro- 
fession, we become expert in it. 4. To be 
fond of a great variety of dishes — is a sure 
proof of a perverted stomach. 5. Prosperity 
— often leads persons to give way to their 
passions, and causes them to forget whence 
they car.ie, what they are, and whither they 
are going. 6. Evil persons — asperse the 
characters of the good, by malicious tales 
7. Every man and woman have a good — 
proper to them, which they are to perfect 
and fill up. To do this — is all that is re 
quired of them ; they need not seek to be 
in the state of another. 

In pleasure's dream, or sorrow's hour, 
In crowded hall, or lonely bow'r, 
The bus'ness of my soul— shall be — 
Forever — to remember thee. 

Who more than he is worth doth spend, 
Ev'n makes a rope — his life to end. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELjCUTION 



39 



83. Elocution or vocal delivery, relates 
to the propriety of utterance, and is exhib- 
ited by a proper enunciation, inflection and 
emphasis; and signifies — the manner of de- 
livery. It is divided into two parts ; the cor- 
rect, which respects the meaning of what is 
read or spoken ; that is, such a clear and ac- 
curate pronunciation of the words, as will 
rsnder them perfectly intelligible ; and the 
rhetorical, which supposes feeling ; whose 
object is fully to convey, and enforce, the 
tntire sensa, with all the varf:f,y, strength, 
and beauty, that taste and emotion demand. 

84. The fourth sound of C is SH ; 
after the accent, followed by ea, \ALj 
ia,ie eo, eo:i,B.ndiou ; O-CEAN; / Vt£*\ 
ju-di-rious Fho-ci-on, te-raa-cious/r^ng^\A 
of his Zws-cious spe-cies, ap-pre-\\ N — O/ 
ci-ates his con-sci-erc-tious as-so- [CkciA.] 
ci-ate, who e-wwrc-ci-ates his sap-o-raa-cious 
p/-e-scienc<; : a GVe-cian pro-^E-cient, with 
ca-pa-cious stt-per-fi-eies and AaZ-cy-on pro- 
nun-ci-a-tion, de-pre-ci-ates the fe-ro-cious 
gZa-ciers, and ra-pa-cious pro-twi-cial-isms 
of Cap-a~io-cia. 

85. The business of training youth in 
Elocution, should begin in childhood, before 
the contraction of bad habits, and while the 
character is in the rapid process of formation. 
The first school is the nursery : here, at 
'east, may be formed a clear and distinct ar- 

iculalio?i ; which is the first requisite for 
^ood reading, speaking and singing: nor can 
ease and grace, in eloquence and music, be 
separated from ease and grace in private life, 
and in t]ie social circle. 

80. Irregulars. S, t, and eh, in many 
words, ire thus pronounced : the Zws-cious 
no-tiou of Cham-pagne and prec-ious su- 
gar, in re-t>er-sion for pa-tients, is suf-fi- 
zient for the ex-pwZ-sion of £7«rc-sient ir-ra- 
cion-aZ-i-ty from the ju-di-cial chev-a-Zzers 
of MicA-i-gan, in Chi-ca-go; (She-caw-go,) 
the mo-u - f: e- a- ting ra-ci-oc-i-rca-tions of sen- 
su-al c7*ar-la-tans to pro-p?-ti-ate the pas- 
sion-ate mar-chion-ess of Che-mung, are 
mi-nw-ti-a for ra-tion-al fis-ures to make 
E-jryp-tian op r f i-cians of. 

IVoteS. 1. This aspirate diphthongal sound may be made, 
by prolojjmg the letters sh, in a whisper, sh — ow. Eee engraving. 
8. Beware of prolonging this sound too much. 3. Exercise all the 
snusculai, or fleshy parts of the body, and let your efforts be made 
from the dorsal region; i.e. the small of the back; thus girding up the 
loin* of jthe mind 4. If you do not feel refreshed and invigorated 
by ih<»e exercises, after an hour's practice, rest assured you are not 
; n natrre's path : if you meet with difficulty, be particular to in- 
form yiur teacher, who will point out the cause and the remedy. 
i.Ci| silent in Czar, indict, Cne-us, Ctes-i-phon, science, muscle, 
•eene, pceptre, <fcc: S, do. in isle, vis-count, island, 4c: Ch, in 
«Aiunj yacM, (yot,) dracAm. 

True love's the gift, which God has given 

To man alone, beneath the heaven. 

It is the secret sympathy, 

The silver chord, the silken tic, 

Which, heart — to heart, and mind — to mina\ 

In body, and in soul —can bind. 

Pleasant the sun, 
When first on chis delightful land he spreads 
His orient beamt. 



Proverbs. 1 He who sows brambles, must 
not go barefoot. 2. It is better to do well, than 
to say well. 3. Look before you leap. 4. Note- 
ing is so bad as not to be gc^d for some-thing. 5. 
One fool in a house is enough. 6. Put oif your 
armor, and then show your courage. 7. A right 
choice is half the battle. 8. The fox— is very 
cunning; but be is 7nore cunning, that catches 
him. 9. When a person is in fear, he is in n« 
state for enjoyment. 10. When rogues fall out 
honest men get their due. 11. Reward — is certaiv 
to the faithful. 12. Deceit— shows a little mind. 

Anecdote. A gentleman, who had lis 
tened attentively to a long, diffuse and high' 
ly ornamented prayer, was asked, by one 
of the members, " if he did not think their 
minister was very gifted in prayer.' 
" Yes ;" he replied, " I think it as good 9 
prayer as was ever offered to a mngrega 
tion." 

Our Persons. If our knowledge of the 
outlines, proportions, and symmetry of the 
human form, and of natural attitudes and 
appropriate gestures were as general as it 
ought to be, our exercises would be detev 
mined by considerations of health, grace 
and purity of mind ; the subject of clothing 
would be studied in reference to its true 
purposes — protection against what is with- 
out, and a tasteful adornment of the person ; 
decency would no longer be determined by 
fashion, nor the approved costumes oi the 
day be at variance with personal comfort 
and ease of carriage ; and in the place of 
fantastic figures, called fashionably dressed 
persons, moving in a constrained and artifi- 
cial manner, we would be arrayed in vest- 
ments adapted to our size, shape, and undu- 
lating outline of form, and with drapery 
flowing in graceful folds, adding to the 
elasticity of our steps, and to the varied 
movements of the whole body. 

Varieties. 1. The true statesman will 
never flatter the people ; he will leave that 
for those, who mean to betray them. 2. 
Will dying for principles — prove any thing 
more than the sincerity of the martyr ? 3. 
Which is the stronger passion, love, or an- 
ger 1 4. Public speakers — ought to live 
longer, and enjoy better health, than others ; 
and they will, if they speak right. 5. 
Mere imitation — is always fruitless ; what 
we get from others, must be inborn in us, 
to produce the designed effects. 6. Times 
of general calamity, and revolution, have 
ever been productive of the greatest minds. 
7. All mere external worship, in which the 
senses hear, and the mouth speaks, but in 
which the life — is unconcerned, is perfectly 
dead, and profiteth nothing, 
Habitual evils — change not on a sudden ; 
But many days, and many sorrows. 
Conscious remorse, and anguish — must be feltf 
To curb desire, to break the stubborn will. 
And work a second nature in the soui, 
Ere virtue— can resume the place she lost; 
Let the enor of my life— speak for me. 



40 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION 



*7. Good rending and speaking is mil- 
id he who can sit u/imoved by their 
inarms, is a stranger to correct taste, and 
lost in itt$nisibiiit>/. A single exhibition 
ot" natural eloquence, may kindle a love of 
the art, in the bosom of an aspiring youth, 
which, in after life, will impel and ani- 
dzn — through a long career of useful- 
ness. Self-made men are the glory of the 
toorld. 

88. D lias two sounds ', first, its name 



,Vj^ 



tound ; DAME ; dart, dawn, 
dab ; deed, dead ; die, did ; dole, 
do, dog ; duke, duck, druid ; 
doit, doubt ; a dan-dy de-fraud- 
ed his dad-dy of his sec-ond- 
hand-ed sad-die, and dubbed the C D in Da 1 
had-dok a fa-dy-bird ; the doub-\e head-ed 
pad-dy, nod-ding at noon-day, de-fer-mined 
to rid-dle ted-ded hay in the fields till dooms- 
day ; the dog-ged dry-ads ad-dict-ed to dep- 
re-da-tions, robbed the day-dawn of its 
dread-ed di-a-dem, and erred, and strayed a 
good deal the down-ward road to ad-en- 
dum. 

89. I must give all the sounds, particularly 
the final ones, with great care, and never 
run the words together, making one, out of 
three. And — is pronounced six different 
ways ; only one of which is right. Some 
call it an, or en ; others, un, ''nd, or n ; 
and a few — and ; thus good-an-bad caus- 
en effect ; loaves-en-fishes, hills-un groves ; 
pen un-ink, you-nd I, or youn-I ; an-de- 
said ; hooks-en-eyes, wor-sen- worse, pleas- 
ure-un-pain ; cakes-n-beer, to-un-the ; roun- 
d'n-round, ol-d'n-young, voice-n-ear ; bread- 
en -butter ; vir-tu-n-vice ; Jame-zen-John : 
solem-un-sub-lime, up-'n-down, pies' -n- 
cakes. I will avoid such glaring faults, and 
give to each letter its appropriate sound. 

Notes. 1. Here the delicate ear may perceive the aspirate 
fcfter the vocal part of d, as after b, and some other letters. The 
vocal is made, (see engraving, ) by pressing the tongue against the 
pvmsot tnc upper fore-teeth, (the incisors,) and the roof of the 
mouth, beginning tc say- d, without the e sound ; and the aspirated 
part, by removing the tongue, and the organs taking their natural 
positions ; but avoid giving the atpirate of the vocal consonants, 
any vocal ity. 2. By whispering the vocal consonants, the aspi- 
rate only in heard 3. D is silent in hand-te\, handsaw, hand- 
some, Aarad-ker-chi -.f, and the first d in Wednesday, stadt-holder, 
and in Dnie-per, ( Aee-per, ) and Dniei-ter, ( A'e£j-ter ). 4. Do not 
give the sound of; to d in any word; as— grand-eur, sold-\er, 
verd-ore, ed-u-csK-, ob-dn-rate, cred-u-lnus, mod-u-late, &c. ; but 
•peak them as thjiugb written grand-yur, sold-yur, &c. ; the same 
analog)- prevails in na-ture, fort-une, &c. 5. The following parti- 
cipial* and adjectives, should be pronounced without abridgment; 
a lless-ed man gives unfeign-ed thanks to his learn-ed friend, and 
oelcv-H lady; some wing-ed animals are curs-ed things; you say 
hecurs'd and bless'd him, for he feign'd that he had learn 'd his 
Pronounce words in the Bible, the same as in other 



Anecdote. Blushing. A certain fash- 
ionable and dissipated youth, more famed 
for his red nose, than for his wit, on ap- 
proaching a female, who was highly rouged, 
end ; "Miss; you blush from modesty." 
" Pardon me Sir,'— she replied, " I blush 
from reflection."' 

Kirulness — in wom in, not theii beauteous looks 
Shall win my lovt 



90. As practicing on the gutterals vtrj 
much improves the voice, by giving itdeptb 
of tone, and imparting to it smoothness and 
strength, I will repeat the following, with 
force and energy, and at the same time con- 
vert all the breath into sound: the discar- 
ded hands dread-ed the sounds of the muf- 
fled drums, that broke on the sad-den'd 
dream-er's ears, raad-dened by des-pair ; 
the blood ebb'd and flow'd from their doub- 
le dy'd shields, and worlds on worlds, and 
friends on fr/?nds by thousands roll'd. 

Proverbs^ 1. An irritable and passionate 
man— is a downright drunkard. 2. Better go to 
heaven in rags, than to hell, in embroidery. 3. 
Common sense — is the growth of ell countries, 
but very rare. 4. Death has nothing terrible in 
it, but what life ha3 made so. 5. Every vice 
tights against nature. 6. Folly — is never long 
pleased with itself. 7. Quilt— is always jealous. 
8. He that shows his passion, tells his enemy 
where to hit him. 9. It is pride, not nature, that 
craves much. 10. Keep out of broils, and you 
will neither be a principal nor a witness. 11. 
One dog barking, another soon johis him. 12. 
Money — is a good servant, but a had master. 

Changes. We see that all material ob- 
jects around us are changing ; their colors 
change just as the particles are disturbed in 
their relations. This result is not owing to 
any natural cause, but to the Divine Power. 
And are there not higher influence.? morepo- 
tent, tho' invisible, acting on man's moral 
nature, pervading the deepest abysses of his 
affection, and the darkest recesses of his 
thoughts ; to purify the one, and enlighten 
the "other, and from the chaos of both — to 
educe order, beauty and happiness ? And 
why is it not changed? Shall we deny to 
his moral nature, the powers and capacities 
which we assign to stocks and stone.} ? Or, 
is the Almighty less inclined to bring the 
most highly endowed of his creatures into 
the harmony and blessedness of his own Di- 
vine Order ? To affirm either would be 
the grossest reflection on the character of 
God, and the nature of his works. If man, 
then, be not changed, so as to reflect the 
likeness and image of his Creator and Re- 
deemer, it must be in consequence of his 
own depraved will, and blinded understand 
ing. 

Varieties. 1. Why is the letter D like 
a sailor ? because it follows the C. 2. 
Books, ( says Lord Bacon, ) sbould have no 
•patrons, but truth and reason. 3. Who fol- 
lows not virtue in youth, cannot fly vice in 
old age. 4. Never buy — what you do not 
want, because it is cheap ; it will be a dear 
article to you in the end. 5. Those — bear 
disappointments the best, who have bee** 
most used to them. 6. Confidence — produces 
more conversation than either wit or tahzrA. 
7. Attend well to all that is said ; for nath* 
ing — exists in vain, either in outward ide- 
ation, in the mind, in the speech, or in tii« 
actions. 

Authors, before they write, should reai. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



4J 



91, Do not hurry your enunciation of 
words, precipitating syllable over syllable, 
and word over word ; nor melt them together 
into a mass of confusion, in pronouncing 
them ; do not abridge or prolong them too 
much, nor swallow nor force them ; but de- 
liver them from your vocal and articulating 
organs, as golden coins from the mint, ac- 
curately impressed, perfectly finished, neatly 
and elegantly struck, distinct, in due suc- 
cession, and of full weight. 

93. The second sound of D, is that 
of T; when at the end of words, yj^J^ 
after c, /, ss, p, q, o, x, ch, and / i 
sh, with silent e, under the ac- 1( 
cent; FAC'D : he curs'd his 
stuff'd shoe, and dipp'd it in [D. in facd.] 
poach'd eggs, that escap\l from the vex'd 
cook, who watch 1 d the spic'd food with 
arch'd brow, tripp'd his crisp'd feet, and 
dash'd them on the mash'd Jaearth ; she pip'd 
and wisp'd a tune for the watch'd thief who 
jump' d into the sack'd pan, and scratch'd 
his blanch'd face, which eclips'd the chaf 1 d 
horse, that was attached and wrapp'd for a 
tax'd scape-grace. 

93. To read and speak with ease, accu- 
racy, and effect, are great accomplishments ; 
as elegant and dignified as they are useful, 
and important. ISIany covet the art, but 
few are willing to make the necessary ap- 
plication: and this makes good readers and 
speakers, so very rare. Success depends, 
principally, on the student's own exertions, 
uniting correct theory with faithful practice. 

, 94. Irregulars. T — generally has this 
sound ; the lit-tie tat-\ex tit-tered at the 
taste-ful tea-j>ot, and caught a tempt-'mg 
<ar-tar by his sa-ti-e-ty ; the stout Ti-tan 
took a tell-tale fer-ma-gant and thrust her 
against the tot-ter-ing tow-ers, for twist-ing 
the frit-texs ; Ti-tus takes the pet-u-\ent 
out-casts, and tos-ses them into na-ture's 
pas-tures with the tur-t\es ; the guests of 
the hosts at-tract a great deal of at-£e«-tion, 
and swft-sti-tute their pre-texts for tem- 
pests ; the cov-et-ous part-ner, des-ti-tnte of 
fort-xxne, states that when the steed is stol- 
en, he shuts the sta'-ble door, lest the grav- 
i-ty of his ro-ta?i-di-ty tip his tac-tics into 
non-e?t-ti-ty. 

When a twister, a twisting, will twist him a twist, 
For twisting his twist, he three twines doth intwist ; 
But if one of the twines of the twist do untwist, 
The twine that untwisteth untwisteth the twist. 

Notes. 1. This dento-lingual sound may be made by 
whispering the imaginary word tttJi, (short u) the tongue being 
r-tssed against the upper front teeth, and then suddenly removed, 
M indicated by the engraving. 2. T is silent when preceded by 
», and followed by the abbreviated terminations en, U. Apostle, 
?listen, fasten, epistle, often, castle, pestle, soften, whistle, chasten, 
bjstle, christen; in eclat, bil-let-doux, debut, luut-boy, currants, 
le-pot, hostler, mortgage, Christmas, Tmolus, and the first t, in 
chest-nut and mie-tle-toe. 3. The adjectives, blessed, cursed, &c 
are exceptions to the rule for pronouncing d. 4. Consonants are 
sometimes double in their pronunciation, although not found in 
»ho name spelling; pit-ied, (pit-ted,) river, (riv-var,) mon-ey 
(mon-ney,) etc. Beware of chewing your words, as vir-chu, 
Ba-ehure, etc. 

Se'.f— alone, in nature rooted fast, 
A* tends us— first, and leaves us— last 
6 



Proverbs. 1. None of y o x i know where th* 
shoe pinches. 2. One may live and learn. 3. 
Remember the reckoning. 4. Such as the trte is, 
such is the fruit. 5. The biggest horses are not 
the best travelers. 6. What cannot be cured, 
must be endured. 7. You cannot catch old birda 
with chaff. 8. Argument— seldom convinces any 
one, contrary to his inclinations. 9. A horse — is 
neither better, nor worse, for his trappings. 10.' 
Content — is the philosopher s stone, that turns all 
it touches into gold. 11. Never sport, with the 
opinions of others. 12. Be prompt in every thing: 

Anecdote. President Harrison, in his 
last out-door exercise, was assisting the gard- 
ner in adjusting some grape-vines. The gard- 
ner remarked, that there would be but littla 
use in trailing the vines, so far as any fruit 
was concerned ; for the boys would come on 
Sunday, while the family was at church, and 
steal all the grapes; and suggested to the 
general, as a guard against such a loss, that 
he should purchase an active watch-dog. 
Said the general, " Better employ an active 
Sabbath-school teacher ; a dog may take care 
of the grapes, but a good Sa&bath-school 
teacher will take care of the grapes and the 
boys too." 

Home. Wherever we roam, in whatever 
climate or land we are cast, by the accidents 
of human life, beyond the mountains or be- 
yond the ocean, in the legislative halls of the 
Capitol, or in the retreats and shades of pri- 
vate life, our hearts turn, with an irresistible 
instinct, to the cherished spot, which ushered 
us into existence. And we dwell, with de- 
lightful associations, on the recollection of 
the streams, in which, during our boyish 
days, we bathed, the fountains at which we 
drank, the piney fields, the hills and the val- 
leys where we sported, and the friends, who 
shared these enjoyments with us. 

Varieties. 1. If we do well, shall we n, Jt 
be accepted ? 2. A guilty conscience — para- 
lyzes the energies of the boldest mind, and 
enfeebles the stoutest heart. 3. Persons in 
love, generally resolve— first, and reason af- 
terward. 4. All contingencies have a Prov- 
idence in them. 5. If these principles of El- 
ocution be correct, practicing them as here 
taught, will not make one formal and ar- 
tificial, but natural and effectuous. 6. Be 
above the opinion of the world, and act from 
your own sense of right and wrong. 7. All 
christians believe the soul of man to be im- 
mortal : if, then, the souls of all, who have 
departed out of the body from this world, are 
in the spiritual world, what millions of in- 
habitants must exist therein ! 

The man, who consecrates his powers, 
By vigorous effort, and an honest aim, 
At once, he draws the sting of life, and death ; 
He walks with Nature ; and her paths — art 
peace. 
D2 



Al 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



95. Lot the position bo crrcf, and the body 
balanced on the foot upon which you stand: 
banish all care and anxiety from the mind; 
lei the forehead be perfectly smooth, the 
longs entirely quiescent, and make every ef- 
fort from the abdominal region. To expand 
the thorax and become straight, strike the 
Palais of the hands together before, and the 
backs of them behind, turning the thumbs 
upward : do all with a united action of the 
body and mind, the center of exertion being 
in the small of the back ; be in earnest, but 
husband your breath and strength; breathe 
often, and be perfectly free, easy, indepen- 
dent, and natural. 

96. F lias two sounds: first, name 
sound : FIFE ; off with the scarf ^v^/ 
from the calf's head; the q/"-fa- , \\ (v 
ble buf-/oon,/ai/A-ful to its ffff/-/^§§^Y 
fer, lifts his wife's /a-ther from ^ -- ' 
the co/-fin, and puts in the fret- I F in FIFE - ] 
ful «//-fy ; fear-ful of the ef-fects, the fright- 
ful fel-lovr prof -fers his hand-ker-chief to fire 
off the r&m-drufFfrom thefit-M fool's offen- 
sive fow Z-ing-piece. 

97. If you read and speak slow, and ar- 
ticulate well, you will always be heard with 
attention ; although your delivery, in other 
respects, may be very faulty : and remem- 
ber, that it is not necessary to speak very 
loud, in order to be understood, but very dis- 
tinctly, and, of course, deliberately. The 
sweeter, and more musical your voice is, the 
better, and the farther you may be heard, 
the more accurate will be your pronuncia- 
tion, and with the more pleasure and profit 
will you be listened to. 

98. Irregulars, Gh and Ph frequently 
have this sound; PM-ip Brough, laugh'd 
enough at the phantoms of the hex-maph-ro- 
dite phi-fos-o-phy, to make the nymph Saph- 
i-ra have a phthis-i-cal Mc-cough ; the ser- 
aph's draught of the proph-e-cy was lith-o- 
graph'd for an eph-z. of phos-pho-m-ent 
naph-th&, and a spher-i-cal trough of tough 
phys ic. 

Notes. I, To make this dento-labial aspirate, press the 
under lip against the upper fore teeth, as seen in the engraving, 

and Llow out the first sound of the word/ ire! 2. Gh, are 

iKicst in dmughl, burroug/i, nigA, high, broug-At, dou^A, fligAt, 
etc.; aoJ Ph and h in pAtAis-i-cal. 3. The difficulty of applying 
tvl*3, to the pronunciation of our language, may be illustrated by 
tb= two following lines, where ough is pronounced in different 
w»yt ; as o, uff, off, ow, oo, and oefc. Though the tough cough 
tad hiccough plough me through, O'er life's dark longh my course 
I will pursue. 

Anecdote. Natural Death. An old man, 
who had been a close observer all his life, 
when dangerously sick, was urged by his 
friends, to take advice of a quack ; but objec- 
ted, saying, — "I wish to die a natural 
death." 

Tbe patient mind, by yielding — overcomes. 



Proverbs. 1. Hope—te a good b reakfast, fcirt 
a bad supper. 2. It is right to put every thing to 
its proper use. 3. Open confession — is good for 
the soul. 4. Pride — must have a fall. 6. The 
lower mill-stone— grinds as well as the upper 
one. 6. Venture not all in one vessel. 7. What 
one ardently desires, he easily believes. 8. Yield- 
ing — is sometimes the best way of succeeding. 
9. A man that breaks his word, bids others be 
false to him. 10. Amendment — is repentance. 11. 
There is nothing useless to a person of tense. 
12. The hand of the diligent— maketh rich. 

Patience and Perseverance. Let any 

one consider, with attention, the structure 
of a common engine to raise water. Let 
him observe the intricacy of the machinery, 
and behold in what vast quantities one of 
the heaviest elements is forced out of its 
course ; and then let him reflect how many 
experiments must have been tried in vain, 
how many obstacles overcome, before a frame 
of such wonderful variety in its parts, co^la' 
have been successfully put together : afit: 
which consideration let him pursue his en- 
terprise with hope of success, supporting 
the spirit of industry, by thinking how much 
may be done by patience and perseverance. 

Varieties. Was the last war with Eng- 
land—justifiable? 2. In every thing you 
undertake, have some definite object in mind. 

3. Persons of either sex — may captivate, by 
assuming a feigned character,- but when the 
deception is found out, disgrace and ttnhap- 
piness will be the consequences of the fraud. 

4. All truths — are the forms of heavenly 
loves,- and all falsities — are the forms of in- 
fernal loves. 5. While we co-operate with 
Nature, we cannot labor too much — for the 
development and perfection of body and 
mind; but when we force or contradict her, 
so far from mending and improving "the 
human form divine," we actually degrade 
it below the brute. 6. How ridiculous some 
people make themselves appear, by giving 
their opinions for or against a thing, with 
which they are unacquainted / 7. The law 
of God is divine and eternal, and no person 
has a right to alter, add, or diminish, one 
word: it must speak for itself, and stand by 
itself. 

Who needs a teacher— to admonish him, [mist? 
That flesh— is grass ? That earthly things— are 
What are our joys — but dreams ? and what our 
But goodly shadows in the summer cloud ? [hopes, 
There's not a wind that blows, but bears with it 
Some rainbow promise. Not a moment flies, 
But puts its sickle— in the fields of life, [care*. 
And mows its thousands, with their joys an4 
Our early days I— How often— back 
We turn— on Life's bewildering track, 
To where, o'er hill, and valley, playg 
The sunlight of our early days / 
A monkey, to reform the times. 
Resolved to visit foreign climes 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



43 



^T^x 




F in OF. ] 



99. He who attempts to make an inroad 
on the existing state of things, though evi- 
dently for the better, will find a few to en- 
courage and assist him, in effecting a use- 
ful reform ; and many who will treat his 
honest exertions with resentment an 1 con- 
tempt, and cling to their old errors with a 
fonder pertinacity, the more vigorous is the 
effort to tear them from their arms. There 
is more hope of a fool-, than of one wise in 
his own conceit. 

100. Tlie second sound of F, is that 
of V: OF; {nevex off, noxuv;) 
Iksre-of here-of, where-oi; the 
only words in our language, in 
which F, has this sound: a 
piece of cake, not a pieee-u 
cake, nor a piece-ur-cake. 

101. Muscle Breakers. Thou waft'd'st 
the rickety skiff over the mountain height 
cliffs, and clearly saw'st the full orbu moon, 
in whose silvery and effulgent light, thou 
reefd'st the haggled sails of the ship- wreck- 
ed vessel, on the rock-bound coast of Kam- 
scat-ka.. He was an unamiable, disrespect- 
ful, incommunicative, disingenuous, formi- 
dable, un»w7iageable, intolerable and pusi- 
Zanimous old bachelor. Get the latest 
amended edition of Charles Smith's Thu- 
cyd-i-o\es, and study the colonist's best in- 
terests. 

103. Irregulars. V has this vocal aspi- 
rate ; also Ph in a few words ; my vain neph- 
ew, Ste-vhen Ta?i-de-ver, be-lieves Fe-nus 
a ves-tal vir-gin, who viv-i-G.es his shiv-ex- 
ed liv-ex, and im-proves his ueZ-vet voice, 
so as to speak with viv-'\d viv-ac-i-ty ; the 
brave chev-a-Zier be-haves like a voZ-a-tile 
con-ser-va-tive, and says, he loves white 
wine m'?i-e-gar with veal ri'cf-uals every 
warm day in the vo-cal vales of Vu-co-var. 

103. Faults in articulation, early con- 
tracted, are suffered to gain strength by hab- 
it, and grow so inveterate by time, as to be 
almost incurable. Hence, parents should 
assist their children to pronounce correctly, 
in their first attempts to speak, instead of 
permitting them to pronounce in a faulty 
manner : but some, so far from endeavoring 
to correct them, encourage them to go on in 
their baby talk ; thus cultivating a vicious 
mode of articulation. Has wisdom fled from 
men ; or was she driven away ? 

Notes. 1. This diphthongal sound, is made like that off, 
with the addition of a voice sound in the larynx : see engraving. 2. 
A modification of this sound, with the upper lip over-lapping the un- 
der aae, and blowing down on the chin, gives a very good imita- 
tion 0.' the humble-bee. 3. Avoid saying gim me some, for give 
me some ; I haint got any, for I have not got any ; 1 dont luff to 
go ; for, I don't love, (like rather,) to go ; you'll haff to do it; for 
you will have to do it 

What is a man, 
f his chief good and market of his time, 
Be but to sleep and feed ? A beast , no more. Sure, 
He, th't ~\adt us, with such large discourse, 
Looking before, and after, gave us not 
That capability— and god-like reason^ 
To rust in us— unused. 



Proverbs. 1. A goid cause makes a svcut 
heart, and a strong arm. 2. Better ten guilty 
persons escape, than one innocently suffer. 3 
Criminals— are punished, that crime may be pre- 
vented. 4. Drunkeiincss— turns a man out of 
himself, and leaves a beast :'n his room. 5. He 
that goes to church, with an evil intention, goes 
on the devil's errand. 6. Most things have han- 
dles ; and a wise man takes hold of the best. 7. 
Our flatterers— are our most dangerous enemies , 
yet they are often in .our own bosom. 8. Pover- 
ty—makes a man acquainted with strange &«£. 
fellows. 9. Make yourself all honey, and the 
flies will be sure to devour you. 10. Many talk 
like philosophers, and live like fools. 11. A stitch 
in time — saves nine. 12. The idle man's head, is 
the devil ? s workshop. 

Anecdote. School master and pupil. A 
school master — asked a boy, one very cold 
winter morning, what was the Latin — for 
the word cold: at which the boy hesitated, 
— saying, I have it at my finger's ends. 

Ourselves and Others. That man — 
deserves the thanks of his country, who con- 
nects with his own — the good of others. 
The philosopher — enlightens the world ; 
the manufacturer — employs the needy ; and 
the merchant — gratifies the rich, by procu- 
ring the varieties of every clime. The mi- 
ser, altho' he may be no burden on society, 
yet, thinking only of himself, affords no one 
else — either profit, or pleasure. As it is not 
of any one — to have a very large share of 
happiness, that man will, of course, have the 
largest portion, who makes himself — a part- 
ner in the happiness of others. The benev- 
olent — are sharers in every one's joys, 

Varieties. 1. Ought not the study of our 
language be made part of our education ? 

2. He who is slowest in making a promise, is 
generally the most faithful in performing it. 

3. They who are governed by reason, need 
no other motive than the goodness of a thing, 
to induce them to practice it. 4. A reading 
people — will become a thinking people ; and 
then they are capable of becoming a ration- 
al and a great people. 5. The happiness of 
every one — depends more on the state of his 
own mind, than on any external circum 
stance; nay, more than all external things 
put together. 6. There is no one so despica- 
ble, but may be able, in some way, and at 
some time, to revenge our impositions. 7 
Desire — seeks an end : the nature of the de 
sire, love and life, may be known by its end 

When lowly Jlfen't—ieels misfortune's blow, 

And seeks relief from penury and wo, 

Hope tills with rapture — every generous heart, 

To share its treasures, and its hopes impart ; 

As, rising o'er the sordid lust of gold, 

It shows the impress — of a heavenly mould ! 

Whose nature is — s»o far from doing hasm, 
That he suspetts none. 



*4 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 




104. In all schools, one leading object 
should be, to leach the science and art of 
leading and speaking with effect : they ought, 
indeed, to occupy seven-fold more time than 
at present. Teachers should strive to improve 
themselves, as well as their pupils, and feel, 
that to them are committed the future orators 
of our country. A first-rate reader is much 
more useful than a first-rate performer on a 
piano, or any other artificial instrument. 
Nor is the voice of song sweeter than the 
Toice of eloquence: there may be eloquent 
readers, as well as eloquent speakers. 

105. G has three sounds : first, name 
60und, or that of J, before e, i, 
and y, generally : GEM ; Gen-er- 
al Ghent, of gi-zxit g<e-nius, sug- 
gests that the o-Hg-i-nal mag-ic 
of the frag-ile gip-sey has gen- 
er-a-ted the gen-e-aZ-o-gy of Geor- [G in GEM,] 
gi-um Si-dus ; the geor-gics of George Ger- 
man are ex-og-er-a-ted by the pan-e-giyr-ics 
of the Zog-i-cal ser-geant ; hy-dro-gen, og-y- 
gen and ging-seng, ger-min-ate gen-teel gin- 
ger-bread for the o-rig-i-nal ab-o-ng-i-nes of 
Ge-ne-va. 

106. It is of the first importance, that the 
reader, speaker and singer be free and unre- 
strained in his manner ; so as to avoid using 
the chest as much as possible, and also of 
being monotonous in the flow of his words : 
thus, there will be perfect correspondence — 
of the feelings, thoughts and actions. Look 
out upon Nature,- all is free, varied, and ex- 
pressive ; such should be our delivery. Na- 
ture — abhors monotony, as much as she does 
a vacuum. 

107. Irregulars. J generally has this 
sound. The \e-june judge Just-iy jmZ-ous 
of Ju-lia's joy, joined her toju-ba. James in 
June or July; theju-ryjus-ti-fy the joke, in 
j'erfc-ing the jave-\\n of Ju-pi-ter from the 
jol-ly Jies-u-it, and yara-ming it into the jov- 
i-al Jew, to the jeop-ar-dy of the jeer-ing 
jock-ey. 

Notes. L This triphthongal sound, as are most of the other 
vocal consonants, is composrd of a vocal and aspirate. To make 
It, compress the teeth, and begin to pronounce tLe word judge, 
very loud ; and when you have made a sound, e. t. got to the u, 
ito~ instantly, and you will perceive the proper sound ; or be- 
pin to ^renounce the letter g, but put no e to it : see engraving. 
i. The three sounds, of which this is composed, are that of the 
■aitie sound of d, and those of e, and h, combined. 3. Breath as 
well aa voice sounds, may be arrested, or allowed to escape, ac- 
cording to the nature of the sound to be produced. 

Anecdote. A pedlar — overtook another 
of his tribe on the road, and thus accosted 
him: "Hallo, friend, what do you carry?" 
u Rum and Whisky," — was the prompt re- 
ply. " Good," said the other ; " you may go 
ahead; I carry gravestones." 

The quiet sea, 
Th't, like a giant, resting from his toil, 
Bleeps fn the morning •**. 



Proverbs. 1. He that seeks trouble, it wer« 
a pity he should miss it. 2. Honor and ease— are 
seldom Jed-fellows. 3. It is a miserable sight to 
see a poor man proud, and a rich man avaricious. 

4. One cannot./??/ without wings. 5. The fairest 
rose at last is withered. 6. The best evidence of 
a clegyman's usert**ness, is the holy lives of his 
parishoners. 7. We a»e rarely so unfortunate, 
or so happy, as we think we are. 8. A friend in 
need, is a friend indeed. 9. Bought wit is the 
best, if not bought too dear. 10. Disputations— 
leave truth in the middle, and the partite at both 
ends. 11. We must do and live. 12. A diligent 
pen supplies many thoughts. 

Authority and Truth. Who has not 

observed how much more ready mankind are 
to bow to the authority of a name, than 
yield to the evidence of truth ? However 
strong and incontestiblc — the force of rea- 
soning, and the array of facts of an individ- 
ual, who is unknown to fame, a slavish world 
— will weigh and measure him by the obscu- 
rity of his name. Integrity, research, sci- 
ence, philosophy, fact, truth, and goodness — 
are no shield against ridicule, and misrepre- 
sentation. Now this is exceedingly humilia- 
ting to the freed mind, and shows the great 
necessity of looking at the truth itself for the 
evidence of truth. Hence, we are not to be- 
lieve what one says, because he says it, but 
because we see that it is true : this course is 
well calculated to make us independent rea- 
soners, speakers, and writers, and constitute 
us, as we were designed to be — freemen, in 
feeling, thought and act. 

Varieties. 1. How long was it, from the 
discovery of America, in 1492, by Columbus, 
to the commencement of the Revolutionary 
War, in 1775? 2. Most of our laws would 
never have had an existence, if evil actions 
had not made them necessary. 3. The grand 
secret — of never failing — in propriety of 
deportment, is to have an intention — of al- 
ways doing what is right. 4. Only that, 
which is sown here, will be reap'd hereafter. 

5. Is there more than one God? 6. The hu- 
man race is so connected, that the well inten- 
tioned efforts of each individual — are never 
lost; but are propagated to the mass; so 
that what one — may ardently desire, another 
— may resolutely endeavor, and a third, or 
tenth, may actually accomplish. 7. All 
thought is dependent on the will, or volun- 
tary principle, and takes its qualify there- 
from : as is the will, such is the thought ; for 
the thought — is the will, in form ; and the 
state of the will — may be known by that 
form. 

Go abroad, upon the paths of Nature, and whe» 
Its voices whisper, and its silent things [all 

Are breathing the deep beauty of the world, 
Kneel at its simple altar, and the Gcd, 
| Who hath the living waters- -shal be there. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



45 



108. Elocuhyn- -is not, as some errone- 
ously suppose, an art of something; artificial 
in tones, tasks and gestures, that may be 
learned by imitation. The principles teach 
us — to exhibit truth and nature dressed to 
advantage .- its objects are, to enable the rea- 
der, and speaker, to manifest his thoughts, 
and feelings, in the most pleasing, perspic- 
uous, and forcible manner, so as to charm the 
affections, enlighten the understanding, and 
leave the deepest, and most permanent im- 
pression, on the mind of the attentive hearer. 

109. Tiie second soimd of G, is hard, 
or gutteral, before a, o, u, I, r. 
and often before e, and i; also, / 




at the end of monosyllables, and 
sometimes at the end of dissyl- 
lables, and their preceding sylla- 
bles. GAME; a giddy goose 10 in game.] 
got a ci-gar, and gave it to a gan-grene beg- 
gar : Scrog-gins, of £ro&-dig-nag, growls 
over his green-glass gog-gles, which the big 
ne-gro gath-er-ed from the bog-gy quag-mire ; 
a gid-dy gig-gling girl glides into the grog- 
ge-ry, and gloats over the gru-el in the great 
pig-gin of the rag-ged grand-mother, ex- 
claim-ing, dig or beg, the game is gone. 

110. Foreigners and natives may derive 
essential aid from this system of mental and 
vocal philosophy ; enabling them to read and 
speak the language correctly; which they 
most certainly ought to do, before they are 
employed in our schools : for whatever chil- 
dren learn, they should learn correctly. Good 
teachers are quite as necessary in the pri- 
mary school, as in the Academy or College : at 
least, so thought Philip, king of Macedon, 
when he sent his son Alexander to Aristotle, 
the great philosopher, to learn his letters: 
and Alexander says, he owed more to his 
teacher, than to his fat her. 

111. Irregulars. Gh, in a few words, 
has this soun I : tho', strictly speaking, the h 
is silent. The ghast-ly bur-gher stood a- 
ghast to see the ghost of the ghyll, eat the 
ghas-tly gher-kins in the ghos-t\y burgh. 
They are silent in — the neigA-bors taught 
their daugA-ters to plough with de-ligAt, 
though they caug/tt a fur-lougA / &c. 

JVoteS. 1. This vocal sound is nude, by pressing the roots 
of the tongue agai nst the uvula, so as to close the throat, and beginning 
to eay go, without the o; the sound is intercepted lower down tban 
that of first d, and the jaw dropped more ; observe also the vocal 
and aspirate ; the sound is finished, however, in this, as in all oth- 
er instances of making the vocal consonants, by the organs re- 
suming their natural position, either for another eflbrt, or for 
silence. 2. If practice enables persons with half the usual num- 
ber of fingers to accomplish whatever manual labor they under- 
take ; think, how much may be done in this art, by those who pos- 
sess their vocal organs complete, provided they pursue the course 
here indicated,— there is nothing like these vocal gymnastics. 

'Tis autumn. Many, an d many a fleeting age 
Hath faded, since the ■primal morn of Time ; 
And silently the slowly journeying years, 
All redolent of countless seasons, pass. 



112. Freedom of Tlumg lit. Beware 
of pinning your faith to another's sitt,w- -of 
forming your own opinion entirely on that 
of another. Strive to attain to a modest inde- 
pendence of mind, and keep clear of leading 
strings: follow no one, where you cannot 
see the road, in which you are desired to 
walk : otherwise, you will have no confidence 
in your own judgment, and will become a 
changeling all your days. Remember the 
old adage — " let every tub stand on its own 
bottom ! ■ • And, " never be the mere shadow 
of another.'''' 

Proverbs. 1. He dies like a beast, who has 
done no good while he lived. 2. 'Tis a base 
thing to betray a man, because he trusted you. 3 
Knaves— imagine that nothing can be done with- 
out knavery. 4. lie is not a wise man, who pays 
more for a thing than it is worth. 5. Learning — 
is a sceptre to some, and a bauble — to others. 6. 
No tyrant can take from you your knowledge. 7. 
Only that which is honestly got— is true gain. 
8. Pride — is as loud a beggar as want. ; and a 
great deal more saucy. 9. That is a bad child, 
that goes like a top , no longer than it is whip- 
ped. 10. It is hard for an empty bag to stand up- 
right. 11. Learn to bear disappointment cheer- 
fully. 12. Eradicate your prejudices. 

Anecdote. A sharp Eye. A witness, 
during the assizes, at York, in England, 
alter several ineffectual attempts to go on 
with his story, declared, "he could not 
proceed in his testimony, if Mr. Brougham 
did not take his eyes off from him." 

Varieties. 1. Which does society the 
most injury, the robber, the slanderer, or the 
murderer 1 2. In every period of life, our tab 
ents may be improved, and our mind expan- 
ded by education. 3. The mind is powerful, 
in proportion as it possesses powerful truths, 
reduced to practice. 4. Give not the meats 
and drinks of a man, to a child ; for how 
should they do it good ? 5. A proverb, well 
applied at the end of a phrase, often makes 
a very happy conclusion : but beware of 
using such sentences too often. 6. Extrav- 
agant — and misplaced eulogiums — neither 
honor the one, who bestov>s them, nor the 
person, who receives them. 7. Apparmt 
truth — has its use, but genuine t « tl* a 
greater use : and hence, it is the p*\ of 
wisdom — to seek it. 

'Tis midnight's holy hour — and silence now 

Is brooding, like a gentle Spirit, o'er 

The still and pulseless world.. Hark ! on the loin*. 

The bclVs deep tones are swelling, — tis the knell 

Of the departed year. No funeral train 

Is sweeping past,— yet, on the stream, and wood, 

With melancholy light, the moonbeams rest, 

Like a pale, spotless shroud,— the air is stirred, 

As by a mourner's sigh— and on yon cloud, 

That floats on still and placidly through heaven, 

The Spirits— of the Seasons— seem to stand ; 

Young Spring, bright Summer, Autumn's solemn fna 

And Winter, with his aged locks, and breathe 

In mournful cadences, that come abroad 

Like the far tm'nd-harp's wild and touching waL, 

A melancholy dirge — o'er the dead j jar — 

Gone, from the Earth, forever. 



46 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



V^ 



113. These principles of oratory — are 
dcolated to accustom the mind to the 

closest investigation and reasoning; thus, 
affording a better discipline tor the scie?itific, 
rational, and ajftctuous {'acuities of the mind, 
than even the study of the mathematics: for 
the whole man is here addressed, and all his 
menial powers, and all his acquirements, are 
called into requisition. This system is a 
fiery ;rdeal ; and those who pass through it, 
undo- standingly, and practically, will come 
out pr;ritied as by fire: it solves difficulties, 
and "sads the mind to correct conclusions, 
respecting what one is to do, and what one 
is aof to do. 

114. The third sound of G is that of 
Zli which, tho' common to s 
and z, is derived to this letter 
from the French; or, perhaps /, ~* 
we should say, the words in (r^Er^.)] 
which G has this sound, are Vk — J] 
French words not ^Anglicised [G in R0UGE •, 
— or made into English. The 
pro-te-ge (pro-ta-zAa, a person protected, or 
patronized,) during his bad-e-rcag-e, (bad-e- 
nazh, light or playful discourse,) in the me- 
nag-e-ry, (a place for the collection of wild 
animals, or their collection,) on the mi-rage, 
(me-razh, an optical illusion, presenting an 
image of water in sandy deserts,) put rouge, 
(roozh, red paint for the face,) on the char- 
^e-d'af-fair, (shar-zAez-dif-fare, an ambassa- 
dor, or minister of secondary rank.) 

115. This work informs the pupil, as the 
master workman does the apprentice : it 
teaches the principles, or rules, and. the way 
to apply them ; and when they are thus ap- 
plied to practice, he has no more use for 
them : indeed, its rules and directions serve 
him the same purpose as the guide-post 
does the traveler; who, after visititig the 
place, towards which it directs, has no fur- 
ther need of it. 

116. Irregulars. S often has this sound, 
and Z, generally. The az-ure ad-/ie-sion to 
the am-oro-sial en-cZo-sures is a ro-se-ate 
t reas-ure of ru's-ions of pZeas-ures ; the sei- 
zure of the riz-iers en-thu-si-asm is an in- 
va-sion of the gZa-zier's di-vi-sions of the 
scis-sors ; the )to-sier takes the ftra-zier's 
cro-sier with a-ora-sions and cor-ro-sions by 
ex-yo-sure, and <reas-ures it up without e- 
Zis-ions. 

Kot es. 1. This vocal tripbthongal consonant sound may be 
made, by placing the organs, as it to pronounce sh in show, and ad- 
A.ng k voice sound, from the larynx ; or, by drawing out the sound 

of the imaginary word zhure, zh ure. 2. Analyze thesesounds 

thus ; give the first sound of c, keep the teeth still compressed, add 
tie upiraU of h, an 1 then prefix the vocality ; or reverse the pro- 
eet*. G is merit in— the ma-lign phlegm of the poi g-nant gnat, im- 
fregns tne en-sign's di-a-phragm, and gnaws into Char-le-magne's 
it-ntrl-kj. 

Anecdote. A considerate Minister. A 
very dull clergyman, whose delivery was 
monotonous ana uninteresting to his hearers, 
putting many of the old folks asleep — said to 
tie boys, who were playing in the gallery ; 
"Don't make so much noise there; you 
will awake your jtarents below." 

For nut, my lot — was what I sought ; to be, 
111 life, cr dcalh, the r i trims,— and be/ra 



Proverbs. I. Impudence, and wit, are vanlij 
different. 2. Keep thy shop, and thy shop wiH 
keep thee. 3. Listeners — hear no good of them- 
selves. 4. Make hay while the sun shines. 5. Ar. 
ounce of discretion is worth a pound of wit. 6 
Purposing, without performing-, is mere fooling 
7. Quiet persons — are welcome every where 
S. Some have been thought brave, because they 
were afraid to run away. 9. A liar— is a bravt 
towards Ood, and a coward towards men. 18 
Without & friend, the world is a wilderness 11 
A young man idle, — an old man — needy. 12. Re- 
solution, without action, is a slothful folly. 

Reading Rooms. Incalculable good 
might be done to the present and the rising 
generation, by the establishment, in every 
town and village in our country, of Public 
Reading Rooms, to be supported by volun- 
tary subscription: indeed, it would be wise 
in town authorities to sustain such institu- 
tions of knowledge by direct taxation. Oh! 
when shall we wake up to a consideration 
of things above the mere love of money-ma- 
king. 

Varieties. 1. Did Napoleon — do more 
evil than good — to mankind? 2. A neces- 
sary part of good manners — is a punctual 
observation of time; whether on matters of 
civility, biisiness, or pleasure. 3. It is ab- 
surd — to expect that your friends will re- 
member you, after you have thought proper 
to forget them. 4. How much pain has bor- 
rowed trouble cost us. 5. Adversity — has 
the effect of eliciting talents, which, in pros- 
perous circumstances, would have lain dor- 
mant. 6. When the infidel would persuade 
you to abandon the Bdile, tell him you will, 
when he will bring you a better book. 7. 
When the mind becomes persuaded of the 
truth of a thing, it receives that thing, and it 
becomes a part of the person's life : what 
men seek, they find. 

The spacious firmament— on high, 

With all the blue etherial sky, 

And spangled heavens, a shining frame, 

Their great original proclaim. 

Th' unwearied sun — from day to day. 

Does his Creators power display ; 

And publishes — to ev'ry land, 

The work — of an Almighty hand. 

Soon as the evening shades prevail. 

The moon takes up the wond'rous tale 

And, nightly, to the list'ning earth, 

Repeats the story of her birth ; 

Whilst all the stars, that round her burn, 

And all the planets in their turn, 

Confirm the tidings as they roll, 

And spread the truth, from pole to pete. 

What, though, in solemn silence, all 

Move round the dark terrestrial ball 7 

What, though no real voice nor sound 

Amid these radiant orbs be found 1 

In reason's ear they all rejoice, 

And utter forth a glorious voice, 

Forever singing, as they shine, 

" The hand that made us— is divine " 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



47 




J 17. Be very particular in pronouncing 
the jaw, or voice-breakers, and cease not, 
till you can give every sound fully, correctly 
and distinctly. If your vocal powers are 
well exercised, by faithful practice on the 
more difficult combinations, tney will acquire 
a facility of movement, a precision of action, 
a flexibility, grace, and force truly surprising. 

118. H has tout one sound; which is 
an aspirate, or forcible breathing, 
mide in the glottis : HALE : , 
his high-ness holds high his/ 
ha?jgh-ty head, and ex-hib-its' A 
his shrunk shanks to the ho-iy 
horde in the hu-mid hall; the t H in hale.] 
hard-heart-ed hedge-hog, heed-less of his 
Jtav-oc of the tawse-wife^ham, hies him- 
self home, hap-py to have his head, his 
hands, and his heart whole ; the harm-ful 
hum-blc-bee hur.tles through the Ao£-house, 
and ex-horts his ex-haust-ed hive-lings to 
hold their AoMse-hold-stuff for a Aot-by-horse 
till ftar-vest-home. 

119. It is said, that no description can 
adequately represent Lord Chatham : to 
comprehend the force of his eloquence, it 
was necessary to see and to hear him : his 
whole delivery was such, as to make the 
orator a part of his own eloquence: his mind 
was view'd in his countenance, and so em- 
bodied was it in his every look, and gesture, 
that his words were rather felt than follow- 
ed ; they invest ed his hearers ; the weapons 
of his opponents fell from their hands ; he 
spoke with the air and vehemence of inspi- 
ration, and the very atmosphere flamed 
around him. 

ISO. H is silent at the beginning and 
end of many words. The Zton-est shep- 
herd's ca-tarrA, Aum-bles the Aeir-ess in her 
disA-a-billes, and 7m-mors the t/ty-my rhet- 
oric of his rhymes to rftap-so-dy ; the /tu- 
mor-some T/tom-as ex-plained dip/i-thongs 
and tripA-thongs to A-bi-\ah, Be-ri-aA — Ca- 
laA, Di-naA, E-li-'yah, Ge-raA, Hul-daft, I- 
sa-\ah, Jo-nah, Han-wah, Nin-e-vah, O-ba- 
di-ah, Pis-gah, Eu-mah, Sa-rah, Te-rah, 
Vri-ah, Va-ni-ah., and Ze-lah. 

Motes. 1. This sound is the material of which all sounds 
ire atjde, whether vowel or omsonant, either by condensation, 
or modification. To demonstrate this position, commence any 
•ound in a whisper, and proceed to a vocality ; shaping the orrara 
to form the one required, if a v*wel or voca. consonant, and in a 
proper way to produce any of the aspirates. 2. Those who are 
a the labit of omitting the h, when it ought fc> be pronounced, can 
practice on the preceding and similar examples : and also correct 
rich sentences as this ; Hi took my 'orse hand went hout to 'unt 
my 'ogs, hand got hofif my 'orse, hand 'iched im to a hoak tree, 
hand gave 'im tome hoats. 3. It requires more breath to make 
this sound, than any other in our language; as in producing it, 
even mildly, fire lungs are nearly exhausted of air. It may be 
made by whispering the word huh: the higher up, the more scat- 
tering, the lower in the throat, the more condensed, till it becomes 
vocal. 

I am well aware, that what is base, 

JVo polish— can make sterling— and that vice, 

Though well perfumed, and elegantly dressed, 

Like an unburied carcass,— trick'd with flowers, 

I* but a garnished nuisance,— litter far 

For Cieanly riddance,— than for fair attire. 



Proverbs. 1. When the cat is away, the 
mice will play. 2 One may be a wise man, ami 
yet not know how to make a watch. 3. A wi-.ked 
companion invites us to hell. 4. All happiness 
and misery — is in the mind. 5. A good conscience 
is excellent divinity. 6. Bear and forbear— is 
good philosophy. 7. Drunkenness — is a voluntary 
madness. 8. Envy shoots at others, and wounds 
herself. 9. Fools lade out the water, and wis$ 
men catch the fish. 10. Good preachers giva 
fruits, rather than flowers. 11. Actions are the 
raiment of the man. 12. Faith is the eye of Itrtt. 

Anecdote. Frederick the Great, of Prus- 
sia, an ardent lover of literature and the fine 
arts, as well as of his people, used to rise at 
three or four o'clock in the morning to get 
more time for his studies ; and when one of his 
intimate friends noticed how hard he work- 
ed, he replied, — " It is true, I do work hard,- 
but it is in order to live ; for nothing has 
more resemblance to death, than idleness : of 
what use is it, to live, if one only vegetates ? " 

Wrong Choice. How miserable some 
people make themselves, by a wrong choice, 
when they have all the good things of earth 
before them, out of which to choose! If good 
judgment be wanting, neither the greatest 
monarch, nor the repeated smiles of fortune, 
can render such persons happy ; hence, a 
prince — may become a poor wretch, and the 
peasant — completely blessed. To know 
one's self— is me first degree of sound judg- 
ment; for, by failing rightly to estimate our 
own capacity, we may undertake — not only 
what will make us unhappy, but ridiculous. 
This may be illustrated by an unequal mar- 
riage with a person, whose genhis, life and 
tempei — will blast the peace of one, or loth, 
forever. The understanding, and not the 
will — should be our guide. 

Varieties. 1. What can the virtues of 
our ancestors profit us, unless we imitate 
them ? 2. Why is ii, that we are so unwilling 
to practice a little self-denial for the sake of a 
future good ? 3. The toilet of woman — is too 
often an altar, erected by self-love — to vanity 
4. Half the labor, required tn make a first-rate 
musician, would make an accomplished rea- 
der and speaker. 5. Leam to unlearn what 
you have learned amiss. 6. A conceit of 
knowledge — is a great enemy to knowledge, 
and a great argument for ignorance. 7. Of 
pure love, and pure conception of truth, we 
are only receivers: God only is the giver; 
and they are all His from first to last. 

It is a beautiful belief, that ever — round our head, 

Are hovering, on noisless wing, the spirits of the dead. 

It is a beautiful belief, when ended our career, 

That it will be our ministry to watch o'er others here ; 

To lend amoral to the_/fo?.uer; breathe insdom onthetomrf; 

To hold commune, at night's pure noon, with the imprison 'd mind 

To bid the mourner — cease to mourn, the trembling t>e forgive* 

To bear away, from ills of clay, the infant — to its heaven. 

Ah ! when delight — was found in life, and joy — in every breath, 

I cannot tell how terrible — the mystery of death. 

But now, the past is bright to me, and all the future — cltari 

For 'tis my faith, that after death, I itill shall linser here. 



48 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



12 J. Important Remarks. Every pupil 
should bo required to notice, distinctly, not 
oily all the specific sounds of our language, 
simple and compound, but also the different 
and exact positions of the vocal organs, ne- 
cessary to produce them. The teacher 
should, unyieldingly, insist upon having 
these two things faithfully attended to : for 
suc-css in elocution, and music, absolutely 
demands it: no one, therefore, should wish 
to be excused from a full and heany com- 
pliance. Master these elementary princi- 
ples, and you will have command of all the 
mediums for communicating your thoughts 
and feelings. 

122. It has only one sound . which is 
its name sound. LAY ; the 
laird's little fool loudly lauds the /""Y \ 
hl-y white lamb the live-long // /^n^ \\ 
day ; Zem-u-el iy-ell loves the! ( \^f^?" 
Zass-lorn ZwZ-la-by of the \*iA~ 
lord's love-ly la-dy, and, with I 1,1 " 1 -* 7 - 1 
bliss-ful daZ-li-ance, gr n-tcel-ly Zis-tens to 
the low-ly ZoZ-lard's li /o-'y song; the law- 
yer Ze-gai-ly, and plo n-\v tells his luck-less 
cli-em, that he ZiV-e.-sMy re-pels the il-Zog- 
i-cal re-ply of th-j Aul-ly-fy-ing leg-if-Za- 
tor, who, in list- } i& la7i-guor, lies, and re- 
eales him-scli ov / the eZ-der blow tea: (not 
I-oo-t loot.) 

123. Pronr . T ce my, you, your, and that, 
when emplx uc, with the vowels full and 
open. My Aaip is as good as yours. He 
told you. 'jut would not tell me. I said he 
was my mend, not yours. That man re- 
lated that story. When these words are not 
emphatic, the sounds of y and u are short- 
ened, the o silent, and u having its second 
sound, while the a is entirely suppressed. 
My pen is as bad as my paper. How do 
you do ? Very well ; and now do you do ? 
Have you got your book ? This is not your 
book ; it is my book. I said that you said, 
that you told him so. 

Notes. 1. This vocal lingual dutal sound (from the 
larynx, tongue and teeth,) is made by pnssing the tongue against the 
upper gums and the roof of the moutL : pronounce the word lo, 
by prolonging the sound of I; 1 o. 2. Do not let the eye mis- 
lead the car in the comparison rf sounds ; gay and ghay are 
alike to the ear, tho' unlike to tb/» eye: so are ph in philosophy 
and / in folly: the same may be observed of th jn thine and thou 
"J. Never forget the difference between the names of letters, and 
their respective sounds ; weigh their natures, powers and qualities. 
4. Notice the dissimilarity between the letters o-n-e, and the word 
arte (wun ;) also e-i-g-h-t, and tight (ate ;) e-n-o-u-g-h, and muff. 
\t there not a better way ? and is not this that way ? 5. Z, is silent 
ui kiirn, sa/ve, could, psalm, would, chalk, shouid, talk, hal-ser 
t*aio-ser,) fai-con (/ato-k'u,) salmon, folks, ma/m-sey (5!da) al- 
uouds, &c. 

Anecdote. One Tongue. Milton, the au- 
thor of Paradise Lost and Regained, was one 
lay asked, by a friend of female education, 
if he did not intend to instruct his daughter 
in the different languages : "No Sir,-" re- 
plied Milton, " one tongue is sufficient for a 
woman. 

Te dorpots, too long— did your tyranny hold ua 

In a vatfalagt vile — ere its weakness we knew ; 

But we learn'd, that the links of the chain, that enthraVd as, 

Wrre forg'd by the (cart of the captive alone. 



Proverbs. 1. Almost, and very nigh, »<av« 
many a lie. 2. A man may buy even gold too 
dear. 3. He, that waits for dead men's shoes, 
may long go barefoot. 4. It is an ill cause, that 
none dare speak in. 5. If pride were an art, 
there would be many teachers. 6. Out of sight, 
out of mind. 7. The whole ocean is made of 
single drops. 8. There would be no great ones, 
if there were no little ones. 9. Things unreason- 
able—are never durable. 10. Time and tide wait 
for no man. 11. An author's writings are a mir- 
ror of his mind. 12. Every one is architect of 
his own character. 

In the Truth. How may a person be 
said to be in the truth ? This may be un- 
derstood, rationally, by a comparison : we 
say — such a man is in the mercantile busi 
ness ; by which we mean, that his life — is 
that of merchandizing, and is regulated by 
the laws of his peculiar calling. In like 
manner, we say of a christian, that he is in 
the truth, and in the Lord, when he is in the 
true order of his creation; which is — to love 
the Lord, with all his heart , and his neighbor 
as himself ; and to do unto others — as he 
would they should do unto him : such a one 
is, emphatically, in the truth, and the truth 
makes him free; and this is the only freedom 
on earth, or in heaven; and any other state is 
abject slavery. 

Varieties. 1. Why is the L, in the word 
military, like a man's nosel Because, it is 
between two i i. 2. No one is wise at all 
times ; because every one is finite, and of 
course, imperfect. 3. Money — is the servant 
of those, who £now how to use it; but the 
master of those, who do not. 4. Rome — 
was built, 7o3 years before the christian era; 
and the Roman empire — terminated 476 
years after it ; what was its duration ? 5. 
The tales of other times — are like the calm 
dew of the morning, when the sun is faint- 
on its side, and the lake is settled and blue 
in the vale. 6. As is the state of mind, such 
is the reception, operation, production, and 
manifestation — of all that is received. 7. 
Ends of actions show the quality of life ; 
natural men ever regard natural ends ; but 
spiritual men — spiritual ones. 

Changing, forever changing! — So depart 

The glories— of the old majestic wood : 

So — pass the pride, and garniture of fields; 

The growth of ages, and the bloom of days, 

Into the dust of centuries; and so— 

Are both— renewed. The scattered tribes of men, 

The generations of the populous earth, 

All have their seasons too. And jocund Youth 

Is the green jpring--time — Manhood's lusty strength 

Is the maturing summer- hoary dec 

Types well the autumn of the year — and Death 

Is the real winter, which forecloses all. 

And shall the forests — have another spring, 

And shall the fields — another garland wear, 

And shall the worm — come forth, renew'd in life, 

And dollied with highest beauty, ana not MAN ? 

No .'—in the Book before me now, I read 

Another language ; and my faith is sure. 

Tliat though the chains of death may hold it long , 

This mortal — will o'ermaster them, and br .sax. 

Jtway, and put on immortality. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



49 



134. Read, and speak, it. 6uch a, Just and 
impressive manner, as will instruct, interest 
and affect your hearers, and repvjduce in 
them all those ideas and emotions, which you 
wish to convey. Remember, that theory — 
is one thing, and practice — another ,- and that 
there is a great difference, between knowing 
how a sentence should be read or spoken, 
and the ability to read or speak it: theory — 
is the result of thought ,- practice — of actual 
experience. 

135. M lias only one sound; MAIM : 
meek men made mum-mies out 

of gam-m.or\, and moon-beams \*-s->A 
of gum-my a.m-mo-m-a., for a. pre- /<£^^?^N 
mi-um on dum-my som-nawi- ' v J> 

bu-lism : mind, man-ners and [M in maim.] 
mag-na-nim-i-ty, make a migh-ty man, to 
a-maZ-ga-mate em-blems and warn-pum for 
an ora-ni-um gath-er-um : the malt-man cir- 
cum-a/n-bu-lates thecim-me-ri-an ham-mock, 
and tum-bles the raur-mur-ing mvZ-ship- 
man into a min-i-mum and ?/iax-i-mum of a 
mam- mi-form di-lem-ma. 

136. Cicero and Demosthenes, by their 
ivords, lives, maxims, and practice, show the 
high estimation, in which they held the sub- 
ject of oratory ,- for they devoted years to the 
study and practice of its theory and art, un- 
der the most celebrated masters of antiquity. 
Most of the effects of ancient, as well as of 
modern eloquence, may be attributed to the 
manner of delivery: we read their words, 
but their spirit is gone; the body remains, 
beautiful indeed, but motionless — and dead,- 
tkue eloquence — revivifies it. 

Notes* To produce this labio-nasal sound, close the lips 
«nd make a sound through the nose, resembling the plaintive lou-- 
ne of an ox, with its mouth closed ; or, a wailing sound through 
rour nose. 2. This is called a nasal sound, because it is made 
through the nose; and not because it does not pass through it, as 
mauy imagine : which may become evident, by producing the 
tound when the nose is held between the thumb and forefinger. 3. 
Avoid detaching letters from preceding words, and attaching them 
to succeeding ones ; as — his cry moved me ; for, his crime moved 
me. 4. M is silent before n, in the same syllable ; as, Mnason, 
and mne-Hion-ics. 

137. That is th' man, th't said that you 
saw him. I say th't that, th't that man said, 
is not that, th't thai man told him. That th't 
I say is this .- th't thai, th't that gentleman 
advanced, is not that, th't he should have 
spoken; for he 6aid, th't that that, th't that 
man pointed out, is not that that, th't that la- 
dy insisted th't it was ; but is another that. 

THE PATHS OF LIFE. 

Go forth — the world is very wide, 
And many paths — before you lie, 

Devious, and dang'rous, and untrjkl ; 
Go forth with wary eye ! 

Go ! with the heart— by n-rie/unbow'd ! 

Go! ere a shadow, or a cloud 
Hath dimm'd the laughing sky! 

But, lest your wand'ring footsteps stray, 

Choose ve the straight, the narrow way. 

BKONSChN 4 



138. By the aid of the principle)? lieie in- 
culcated, children can be taken, before they 
have learned the names of the letters, and, in 
a few months, become better readers than 
one in fifty of those taught in the usual 
way ; and they may have their voices so de- 
veloped and trained, by the natural use of 
the proper organs and muscles, as to be able 
to read, speak, and sing, for hours in succes- 
sion, without hoarseness, or injurious ex- 
haustion. It is a melancholy reflection, that 
children learn more bad habits than good 
ones, in most of our common schools. 

Proverbs. 1. He, that does you an ill turn, 
will never forgive you. 2. It is an ill wind that 
blows nobody any good. 3. The proof of the 
pudding- — is in eating. 4. None so deaf, as they 
that will not hear. 5. Time — is a file, that wears, 
and makes no noise. 8. When every one takes 
care of himself ', care is taken of all. 7. Without 
pains, there can be no gains. 8. One may as 
well expect to be at ease, without money, as to be 
happy, without virtue. 9. A man, like a watch, 
is valued according to his going. 10. The gov- 
ernment of the will is better than an increase 
of knowledge. 11. Character — is every thing — to 
both old and young. 12. War brings scars. 

Anecdote. Long Enough. A man, up- 
on the verge of bankruptcy, having purchased 
an elegant coat, upon credit, and being told 
by one of his acquaintances, that the cloth 
was very beautiful, though the coat was too 
short; replied, — with a sigh — "It will be 
long enough before I get another. 

Honor — was the virtue of the pagan ; 
but Christianity — teaches a more enlarged 
and nobler code ; calling into activity — all 
the best feelings of our nature, — illuminat- 
ing our path, through this world, with deeds 
of mercy and charily, mutually done and re- 
ceived, — and sustaining us, amidst difficul- 
ties and temptations — by the hope of a 
glorious immortality, — in which peace — 
shall be inviolable — and joy — eternal. 

Varieties. 1. Why is a fashionably 
dressed lady, like a careful housewife? Be- 
cause her waist (waste), is always as small 
as she can make it. 2. Literature and 
Science, to produce their full effect, must 
be generally diffused, like the healthful 
breeze. 3. The elements, so mixed in him, 
that Nature might stand up, and say to all 
the world, "This is a man /" 4. All minis 
are influenced every moment ; and there is 
a providence in every feeling, thought and 
word. 5. The excesses of our youth, are 
drafts on our old age, payable with interest , 
though sometimes, they are payable at sigh:. 
6. I will not only know the way, but tcatk in 
it. 7. As it is God's will to fill us with hit 
life, let us exert every faculty we possess, 
to be filled with it ; and that with all sin 
eerily and diligence. 

The man, th't's resolute, and just, 
Firm to his principles and trust, 
Nc* \opes, nor fears — can bind. 



60 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



129. Distinctness of articulation demands 
special attention, and requires that you should 
pronounce the vocal letters, as well as every 
word, audibly ant' correctly, giving to each 
its appropriate force and quantity. Unless 
these principles are perfectly understood, 
your future acquirements will be more or 
less faulty : for, in proportion as one is ig- 
norant of what ought to be felt, thought, and 
done, will he be liable to err. 

130. N lias two soiuidsjjjrs/ its name 
sound: NINE; the land-man's ^.^^ 
nin-ny, neg-li-gent of the hunts- //JJ \ 
man's en-chan t-ments, con-tarn- (< ^^^> ^ 
i-nates the ??o-ble-man's nine- \ ^ — / / 
pins with his an-ti-??.o-mi-an non- CK in nine.] 
sense : Na.-hant, and JYtm-ni-gan, joint-ten- 
ants of ravie-ty-nine Man-i-kins, u-nan-i- 
mous-ly en-chain with wwi-ning tones, the 
be-nig-nantdu-en-na, while they are con-ven- 
ed to nom-i-nate con-di-ments for the so-cin- 
l-an con-ven-tion of the non-res-i-dents ; he 
knows his nose ,• I know he knows his nose : 
he said I knew he knows his nose : and if he 
says he knows I know he knows his nose, 
of course, he knows I know he knows his 
nose. 

131. Some public speakers, in other re- 
spects inferior, from the ease, grace, dignity 
and poiuer of their delivery, axe followed and 
applauded; while others, however sound in 
matter, and finished in language, on account 
of their deficiency of manner, are passed by 
almost unnoticed. All experience teaches us 
the great importance of manner, as a means 
of inculcating truth, and persuading others 
to embrace it. Lord Bacon says, it is as ne- 
cessary for a public speaker, as decorum for 
a gentleman. 

Notes. 1. This vocal nasal sound is made, by pressing the 
fcmgue against the roof of the mouth, aud thus preventing the sound 
from passing through the mouth, and emitting all of it through the 
nose: see engraving. 2. In comparing sounds, be guided solely by 



the ear ; beware of going by sight in the science of accouslics. 3. 
Remember, when there is a change in the position of the organs, 
there is a corresponding change in the sounds. 4. In words where 
I and n precede ch, the sound of t intervenes in the pronunciation : 
filch, blanch, wench, inch, bench, &c. 5. Beware of omissions 
Mid additions ; Boston notion, not Boston ocean. Regain either, 
not regain neither. 

Anecdote. The Rev. Mr. Whitfield— 
was once accused, by one of his hearers, of 
wandering in his discourse ; to which he re- 
plied : " If you will ramble like a lost sheep, 
I must ramole after you." 

Truth- 
Comes to us with a slow— and doubtful step ; 
Measuring the ground she treads on, and forever 
Turning her curious eye, to see that all 
Is right — behind ; and, with keen survey, 
Choosing her onward path. 

Seize upon truth, — where vet found, 
On christian, — or on heathen ground ; 
Among your friends, — among your foes; 
The slant's dniine,— -wile-e'er it grows. 



Proverbs. 1. It is not the burthen, but the 
oear-burthen, that kills \Uu beast. 2. The death 
of youth is a shipwreck. 3. There is no di.-^ ut- 
ing of tastes, appetites, and fancies. 4. When the 
fox preaches, let the geese beware. 5. jJtms- 
giving— never made a man poor ; nor robbery — 
rich ; nor prosperity — wise. 6. A lie, begets a lie, 
till they come to generations. 7. Anger — is often 
more hurtful than the injury that caused it. 8. 
Better late ripe, and bear, than blossom, and bl/itt. 
9. Experience — is the mother of science. 10. He 
that will not be counselled, can not be helped.. 
11. Expose one's evils, and he will either/orsaia 
them, or hate you for the exposure. 12. Do not 
hurry a. free horse. 13. Every thing would live. 

Gradations. The dawn, the deep light, 
the sun-rise, and the blaze of day ! what 
softness and gentleness ! all is graduated, 
and yet, all is decisive. Again, observe 
how winter — passes into spring, — each — 
weakened by the struggle; then, steals on 
the summer, which is Followed by the matu- 
rity of autumn. Look also at the gradations 
and commingling of infancy, childhood, 
youth, manhood and age : how beautiful the 
series ! and all this may be seen — in the 
successive developments of the human wm«Z; 
— there is first sense, then fancy, imagina- 
tion and reason, — each of which — is the 
ground, or continent, of all that succeed : 
sense — is the rude germ, or crust of the 
fancy, which is the full-fledged bird, freed 
from its confinement and limited notices, 
and soaring aloft, unrestrained, in the luxu- 
ries of its new being ; then, succeeds imagi* 
nation, a well regulat ed fancy, that emulates 
the work of reason, while it borrows the 
hues — of its immediate parent : and reason 
— is the full and perfect development — of all 
that sense — originally contained, fancy — de- 
corated, and imagination — designed — in a 
thousand forms: thus reason — combines the 
whole, and from the whole, thro' the light 
of the Supreme Mind, deduces her conclu- 
sions : thus, shall the gradations, or series 
of developments, continue in the good, and 
the true — to all eternity ! 

Varieties. 1. How many years inter- 
vened — between the discovery of the mar- 
iner's compass, in 1302, and the discovery 
of America ? 2. The covetous man — is as 
much deprived of what he has, as of what 
he has not ; for he enjoys neither. 3. Ah! 
who can tell, how hard it is to climb the 
steep, where Fame's proud temple shines 
afar, checked by the scoff of Pride, by En- 
vy's frown, and Poverty's unconquerable 
bar ! 4. A man of cultivated mind, can 
converse with a picture, and find an agre« 
abl« companion in a statue. 5. Little men- 
triumph over the errors of great ones, as an 
owl — rMoices at an eclipse of the sun. 6. 
The em-nal and natural worlds are so unit- 
ed, as to make but one ; like the soul and 
the body. 7. What is the difference betweei 
good sense, ana wit ? 

A villain, when he most seems kind. 

Is cost to be suspected. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



61 




133. Be perfectly distinct in your articu- 
lation, or you cannot become an easy, grace- 
ful, effective and natural elocutionist ; there- 
fore, practice on the vowels and consonants, 
as here recommended, separately and com," 
bined. If your utterance is rapid, and indis- 
tinct, your reading and speaking, will not 
be listened to with much pleasure, or profit. 
A hint — to those who would be wise, is suf- 
ficient. 

133. The second sound of W, is that 
•f Ng, before hard g, and often 
before hard c. k and q under the / 
BANK; con-gress con- (j 



accent. 

quers the strang-ling don-key, ' ^ 
and sawc-tions the lank con-clave LN in bank.) 
in punc-ftHous con-course: the san-guine 
tm-cle, ana>ious to ling-ex much long-ex 
among the tink-ting in-gots, jin-gles his rin- 
kled fin-gex over the lin-guist's an-gu-lar 
shrunk shanks. 

134. The common mode of teaching elo- 
cution is considered the true one, because it 
has been so long admitted and practiced : 
the old have become familiar with it, and fol- 
low it from habit, as their predecessors did; 
and the rising generation receive it on trust: 
thus, thej r pass on, striving to keep each oth- 
er in countenance : hence it is, that most of 
our bad habits, in this important art, are born 
in the primary school, brought up in the 
academy, and graduated in the college,- if 
we proceed so far in our education. Is not 
an entire revolution necessary. 

135. Irregulars, Ng have generally this 
sound. In cultivating and strength-en-ing 
the un-dex-stand-ing, by stud-y-ing, read-ing, 
wri-tmg, cy-nhex-ing, and speak-ing, I am 
think-mg of con-/era£-ing for go-ing to sink- 
ing meet-ing ; in re-Kn-quish-ing your stand- 
ing in the crisp-ing fry-ing pan, byjump~ing 
o-ver the wind-ing rail-ing, you may be sav- 
ing on the boil-mg o^cean, where the limp~mg 
ter-rings are skip-ping, and danc-ing, around 
some-thing that is laugh-ing and cry-ing, 
tleep-ing and wa-king, lov-ing and smi-ling. 

Notes. 1. This nasal diphthongal vocal consonant sound, 
maybe made by drawing the tongue back, closing the passage 
from the throat into the mouth, and directing the sound through 
the nose j as in giving the name sound of N; it can be distinctly 
perceived by prolonging, or singing the ng sound m the word sing. 
8. If the iccent be on the syllable beginning with g and chard, 
Mtri k, aod q, the n may take its name sound ; as, con-gra<-u-late, 
crn-cur, con-elude, &c. 3. The three sounds of m and n, are the 
oal f nasal ones in our language. 4. Some consonant sounds are 
couinuous: the 1st, 3d, and 4th of c ; the 2nd of/, the third of 
g, I, m, n, r, &c are examples ; others are abrupt or discrete; as, 
b, d, p, ft, t, &c : so we have continuous sounds, ( the long ones, ) 
■nd abrupt or discrete ones, (the short.) 

Anecdote. Equality. When Lycurgus, 
king of Sparta, was to reform and change 
the government, one advised him, that it 
8-iould be reduced to an absolute popular 
equality : " Sir," — said the lawgiver, " be- 
gin it in your own house first . 

(Love — reckons liours — tor months,— and days— (orytars ; 
Aad ever* little absence— is an age. 



Proverbs. 1. Amiss, is as good as a wilt. 
2. A man is a lion in his own cause 3. Ho that 
has too many irons in the fire, will find that soma 
of them will be apt to burn. 4. It is not an art to 
play; but it is a very good art to leave off play 
5. Beyond the truth, there is nothing but error; 
and beyond error, there is madness 6. He, who 
deal3 with a blockhead, has need of much brains. 
7. The burnt child dreads laefire. 8. When ont 
will not, two cannot quarrel. 9. Words from the 
mouth, die in the ears ; but words from the heait 
—stay there. 11. Young folks— think old folki 
fools; but old folks know that young ones are. 

11. First know what is to be done, then do it. 

12. The tongue, without the heart, speaks an un- 
known tcngue. 13. Remember the reckoning. 

The three essentials — of every exist 
ence are an inmost, a middle and an outmost: 
i. e. an end, a cause, and an effect: the end 
is the inmost, the cause is the middle, and 
the effect the outmost, or ultimate. Ex. 
Man is one existence, and yet consists of a 
soul, or inmost principle, a body, or middle 
principle, and an activity, or ultimate prin- 
ciple. In his soul are ends, or motives to 
action; in his body are causes, or ways and 
means of action ; and in his life are effects, 
or actions themselves : if either were want- 
ing, he could not be a man : for, take away 
his soul, and his body would die for want of 
a first principle to live from ; take away his 
body, and his soul could not act in the natu- 
ral world, for want of a suitably organized 
instrument ; take away his life, or the acti- 
vity of his body from his soul, and both 
soul and body would cease to exist for lack 
of exercise. In other words, man consists 
of will, or inmost ; understanding, or inter- 
mediate ; and activity, or ultimate. It is 
evident, that without willing, his under- 
standing would never think, and devise 
means of acting ; and without understand- 
ing, his will — could not effect its purpose ; 
and without action — that willing and under- 
standing would be of no use. 

Varieties. 1. The thief— is sorry he is 
to be punished, but not that he is a thief. 

2. Some — are atheists — only in fair weather. 

3. Is the casket — more valuable than the 
jewel it contains ? 4. Indolence — is a stream 
that flows slowly on ; yet it undermines ev- 
ery virtue. 5. All outward existence — is 
only the shadow of that, which is truly real ; 
because its very correspondence. 6. Should 
we act from policy, or from principle ? 7. 
The prayer of the memory is a reflected light, 
like that of the moon ; that of the under- 
standing alone, is as the light of the sun in 
winter ; but that of the heart, like the ligK 
and heat united, as in spring or sumrr i ; 
and so also, is all discourse from them, and 
all worship. 

THE FLIGHT OF YEABS. 

Gone t gone forever ! — Like a rushing watt 
Another year — has burst upon the shore 
Of earthly being — and its last low tones, 
Wandering in broken accents on the air. 
Are dying— to an eeh* 



52 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



136. In ancient Rome, an orator's educa- 
x ion began in infancy; so should it be now ; 

h of eloquence may be sown, when 
the child is on the maternal fcwom ,■ the voice 
Bhouldbe developed with the n>in<% If the 
iks good examples set him, in reading 
and speaking, and the youth is attentive to 
his every day language, and is careful to im- 
prove his mind and voice together, he will 
become a good elocutionist, without scarcely 
knowing it Connection and association — 
have as much to do with our manner of 
speaking, as with our cast of thinking. 

137. P lias but one sound: PAP; 
pale, par, pall, pap; peep, pet; . 
pipe, pip; pope, pool, pop; / - K ^ Lj \ 
pule, pup, puss ; point, pound ; /<^5?q^4^ 

peo-ple put pep-per in pep-per- ^ , - ' 

box-es, op-ple-pies in cup- [Pin pap.] 
boards, and whap-ping pap-poo-ses in wrap- 
pers; the haj>-py pi-per placed his pee?--less 
pup-py in Pow-pcy's slop-shop, to be pur- 
chased for a peck of pap-py pip-pins, or a 
pound of pu/-ver-iz-ed pop-pies; a pad- Ay 
picked a peck of pick-led p£p-pers, and put 
I hem on a broad briined pew-ter plat-ier. 

138. Muscle Brkakers. Peter Prickle 
Prandle picked three pecks of prickly pears, 
from three prickly prangiy pear trees: if 
then, Peter Prickle Prandle, picked three 
pecks of prickly pears from three prickly 
prangiy pear trees; where are the three pecks 
of prickly pears, that Peter Prickle Prandle 
picked, from the three prickly prangiy pear 
trees] Success to the successful prickly 
prangiy pear picker. 

Notes. 1. To give this aspirate labial, whisper the word 
pugh, (u short,) or pop out the candle ; see the engraving : it it 
all of the word up, except the u: but the sound is not finished till 
the lips are separated, or the remaining breath exlialed : remember 
H.e remarks in reference to other abrupt elements. 2. The prin- 
cipal difference between b andp is, tliat b is a vocal, and p, only a 
Ueaih sound. P, H. T. are called, by some, sharp mutes ; and B, 
'.'>, D,flat mutes 3. Germans find it difficult to pronounce cer- 
tain vocal consonantsat the en.Is of words, tho' correctly at the be- 
gi ,ning : hence, instead of saying dog, -mad, pod, fee. they say, at 
(jrst, dok, mat. pot, &c 4. In pronouncing m, and t together, p is 
very apt to intervene ; as in Pam-ton Sic. 5. P is silent in psal-ter, 
pshaw, pneu-ma£-ics,Pto/-cmy, Psy-che, raap-ber-ry, (3J a,) corps 
(c long,) fe-ceipt, etc. 6. Not detths, but depths ; not claA-board, 
Cut clap-board; not Ja-a)p, but Ja-coi; not bai-tism, but bap- 
tan, e'c. 

Anecdote. A Checl;. Soon after the 
.tattle of Leipsic, a wit observed. — " Bona- 
{ firt must now be in funds ; for he has re- 
ceived a check on the bank of the Elbe."" 
Hidden, and deep, and never dry, 
Ux flowing, or at rest, 
A living spring of love— doth lie 
In every human breast. 
A!! else — may fall, th't soothes the heart, 
AH. save that fount alone ; 
With that, and life, we never part ; 
For life, and love — are one. 

He seemed 
For dignity composed, — and high exploit ; 
*Jut all was false -ind hollow. 



Proverbs. 1. He, who thinks h; Knows tin 
most, knows the least. 2. Take even, thing as it 
comes, and make Ihe best of it. 3. Three removci 
are as bad as a. fire. 4. Tread on a worm, and he 
will turn. 5. Tiro things we should never be 
angry at,— what we can, and what we cannot 
hc>. p. G. When the bow is too much bent, it 
breaks. 7. A wise man — is a great wonder. S 
A tricked man— is his own hell ; and his evil IvstM 
and vassiovf the fiends that torment him. 9 
Blushing— u virtue's color. 10. Evil comnusi- 
catiojis corrupt good -manners. 11. Gain-is nn« 
certain, but '.he pain is sure. 12. Never court, 
mless you intend to marry. 

Amusements. Ever since ihe fall, 
mankind have been prone to extremes ; not 
only the religious, but the irreligious por- 
tion of the world. It ic greatly to be regret- 
ted, that we are all so much at the mercy 
of passion and prejudice, and so little — un- 
der the guiding influence of reason and in- 
telligence. In our creation, the Divine 
Being — has manifested infinite love and in- 
finite wisdom: for we are made in "his 
image and likeness;" the former, we 
still retain, but- the latter, sad to relate, we 
have lost. The will, or voluntary principle 
of the mind, constitutes our impelling power, 
and the understanding, or reasoning facul- 
ties, under the light 01 truth, is our govern- 
i?ig power*: if, therefore, we find ourselves 
loving — what is not good and true, our ra- 
tionality, enlightened by wisdom, must be 
our guide. Hence, our rule is this ; what- 
ever amusements — tend to fit us for our va- 
rious duties, and give us zest in faithfully 
performing them, are perfectly proper ; but, 
amusements, whose tendency is the reverse 
of this, are entirely improper; and we should 
not hesitate a moment in alttaming from 
them, however they may be approved by 
others, or sanctioned by long usage : we 
must never compromise the interests of 
eternity — for those transitory enjoyments of 
time and sense, which are at variance with 
the principles of truth and goodness. Both 
worlds are best taken care of, when they are 
cared for together, and each has its attention, 
according to its importance. 

Varieties. 1. There are some, who liv« 
— to eat and drink ; and there are others, 
who eat and drink, to live. 2. The perfec- 
tion of art is — to conceal the art : i. e. to he 
the thing, instead of its representative. 3. 
Let every one sweep the snow from his own 
door, and not trouble himself about the frost 
on his neighbor's tiles. 4. Galileo, the great 
astronomer, was imprisoned for life, because 
he declared that Venus — shone with a bor- 
rowed light, and from the sun, as the centre 
of our system. 5. There are abuses — in all 
human governments. 6. He, whose virtues, 
exceed his talents, is the good man ; but he, 
whose talents exceed his virtues, is the rV*f 
man. 7 All we perceive, understand, >rdll, 
love, and practice, is our own ; but nothing 
else. 

Suspicion— alioayi haunt* the gra7ty mind ; 
The thief— «till fears each Uwh— an officer. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



53 



139. Written language consists of letters, | 
and, consequently, is more durable than spo- 
ken language, which is composed of articu- 
late sounds. Our written alphabet contains 
twenty-sir letters, which make syllables and 
words; words make sentences; sentences 
paragraphs, winch make sections and chap- 
ters; these constitute an essay, discourse, ad- 
dress, oration, poem, dissertation, tract or 
oook : but our vocal alphabet has forty-/our 
letters, or sounds, which make up the whole 
of spoken language. 

140. R lias two sounds ; first, its name 
sound ; ARM ; the bar-bers were, , { 
in former years, the ar-bi-ters of *jT^ 
the mu r-der-ers of their /ore-fa- //^\\ 
thers . the Tar-tars are gar-blers \ ~(^xpj^~ 
of hard-waxe and per-uer-ters of 
the er-rors of JVor/A-ern-ers and P inABM -l 
Sout h-em-ers ; the/ar-mers are dire search- 
ers af-ter burnt ar-bors, and store the cor- 
ners of their tor-ders with di-vers sorts of 
guar-ter dol-laxs ; Charles Bur-ser goes to the 
/ar-ther barn, and gets Zar-ger ears of hard 
corn, for the car-ter's Aor-ses. 

141. Dr. Franklin says, (of the justly cel- 
ebrated Whitfield,) that it would have been 
fortunate for his reputation, if he had left no 
tuntten works behind him ; his talents would 
»hen have been estimated by their effects : in- 
deed, his elocution was almost faultless. 
But whence did he derive his effective man- 
ner] We are informed, that he took lessons 
of Garrick, an eminent tragedian of Eng- 
land, who was a great master in Nature's 
school of teaching and practicing this useful 
art 

Notes. 1. To make this smooth vocal sound, pronounce 
the word arm, and dwell on the r sound; and you will perceive 
that the tongue is turned gently to the roof of the mouth, and at 
the same time drawn back a little. 2. Avoid omitting this letter, as 
it never is silent, except it is doubled in the same syllable ; not 
»taw-my, but stor-my; not Ki-ah-ty, but lil-er-xy ; not bu^, but 
burst ; not waw-um, but warm ; not oA-gu-ment, but ar-gu-ment ; 
■ot howes, but h6r-ses ; not hahd stawm, but hard storm ; etc. 3. Re- 
member that short e and » before r, in the same syllable, when ac- 
cented, sound like short u, unless followed by another r, as mercy, 
(mer-it,) aer-geant, (ser-rate,) ter-ma-gant, (ter-ror,) mirth-ful, 
( -nir-ror,) ver-ses, (ver-y) (here the r is re-echoed ;) and spirits, &c : 
the exceptions are in parentheses: see p. 22d. 4. Some words, 
(where e, t, and r, are peculiarly situated, as above,) have, in their 
pronunciation, a reverberation, or repetition of the r, although 
there may be but one in the word ; as — oer-y ; being followed by a 
•owel. 

Anecdote. Who Rules ? A schoolmas- 
ter, in ancient Rome, declared, that he ruled 
the world. He was asked to explain : which 
he did in the following manner. " Rome — ■ 
rules the world ; the women rule those who 
govern Rome ; the children control their mo- 
thers, and I rule the children." 

So — we grew together, 
Like to a double cherry, seeming— parted; 
But yet a union — in partition, 
T\joo lowly berries, — moulded on one stem : 
So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart: 
Two— of the first, like coats, in heraldry, 
Doa but to cne, and crowned — with one crest. 

E2 



Proverbs. 1. He that is ill to himself, will 
be good to nobody. 2. The remedy — is worse than 
the disease. 3. Who is so deaf, as he that will 
not hear? 4. All vice infatuates and corrupts the 
judgment. 5. A fool, may, by chance, put some- 
thing into a wise man's head. 6. After praying 
to God, not to lead you into temptation, do not 
throw yourself into it. 7. Evil gotten, evil spent. 
8. He, that knows useful things, and not he that 
knows many things, is the wise man. 9. He — 
preaches well, that lives well. 10. It is always 
term time in the court of conscience. 11. We may 
be ashamed of our pride, but not proud of our 
shame. 12. Historical faith — precedes saving 
faith. 13. Stolen waters are sweet. 

The True Christian Character. The 
three essentials of a christian — are — a good 
will — flowing througrfa true understanding, 
into a uniform life of justice and judgment. 
It is not enough, that we mean well, or 
know our duty, or try to do right ; for good 
intention is powerless, without truth to 
guide it aright ; and truth — in the intellect 
alone, is mere winter -Wght, without the 
swmmer-heat of love to God — and love to 
man ; and blundering efforts — to do our 
duty — are poor apologies for virtuous ener- 
gies, well directed and efficiently applied : 
the three alone — can constitute ustrue chris- 
tians ; i.e. our will, understanding and hfr, 
must be brought into harmonious and eiFi- 
cient unity, in order that we may be entitled 
to this high and holy appellation. Things 
must not only be thought of, and desired, 
purposed, and intended ; but they must be 
done, from love to the Lord ; that He, as a 
principle of goodness, and a principle of 
truth — may be flowing, constantly, from 
the centre — to the circumference of actions . 
we must practice what we know of the truth; 
we must live the life of our heavenly Fa- 
ther's commandments ; so as to have \i$ 
goodness and truth implanted in us, taat we 
may strive to walk before Him, and become 
perfect. 

Varieties. 1. A certain apothecary — hns 
over his door, this sign — " All kinds of dy- 
ing stuff sold here. 1 ' 2. Does wealth — exert 
more influence than knowledge'' 3. A 
pretty shepherd , indeed, a wolf would make! 
4. At some taverns — madness — is sold by 
the glass ; at others, by the bottle. 5. So- 
briety, without sullemiess, and mirth wit.i 
modesty, are commendable. 6. Even an or- 
dinary composition, well delivered, is better 
received, and of course does more g *od, 
than a superior one, badly delivered. 7 
Where order — cannot enter, it cannot exist. 

What is beauty ? Not the show 

Of shapely limbs, and features. No : 

These — are butjlowers. 

That have their dated hours, 

To breathe their momentary sweets, then go; 

'Tis the stainless soul — within — 

That outshines— the fairest skin. 

Appearances — deceive ; 
And this one maxim— is a standing rule,— 
Men are not— what they seem. 



54 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



142. Many persons tike great pains in 
their dress, to appear wed and receive atten- 
;md so far as personal appearance can 
exert an influence, they attain their end: but 
if they would cultivate their language, and 
the proper way of using it, so as not to dt- 
firm themselves in reading and conversation, 
they might accomplish the object at which 
they aim. 

.143. The second sound of R, is rough, 
trilled, or burred; when it ,v 
comes before vowel sounds in / \ 

the same syllable : RAIL ROAD ; '^SS^A 
the roa-ring r^p-ro-bate re-rer- * \ — y 
be- rates his rarc-cor-ous riVald- [R m rail.] 
ry and re-treats from his re-gal throne, to his 
ri-val rec-re-a-tion in the rook-e-ry : the op- 
pro-bri-ous li-frra-ri-an, rfc-re-ant-ly threw 
the great grid-i-ron among the crock-e-ry with 
ir-re-proacA-a-ble ef-front-e-ry ; the re-sults 
of which were. ro-7?/a?z-tic dreams, bro-ken 
ribs, and a hun-dred prime cit-rons for the 
tlirong of cry-ing chil-dren : round and round 
the rug-ged rock the rag-ged ras-cal drags the 
strong rhi-noc-e-ros, while a rat in a retf-trap 
ran through the rain on a rail, with a raw 
lump of red liv-er in its mouth. 

144. Written language — is used for com- 
municating information respecting persons 
distant from each other, and for transmitting, 
to succeeding ages, knowledge, that might 
otherwise be lost, or handed down by erring 
tradition. Spoken language — is used to con- 
vey the thoughts and feelings of those who 
are present, and are speaking, or conversing 
together: the former is, of course, addressed 
to our eyes, and the latter, to our ears ,• each 
kind having its own particular alphabet, 
which must be mastered. 

ZVotes. L This vocal trilled diphthongal sound, consists 
>f the aspirate sound of h, modified between the end of the tongue 
of of the mouth, combined with a vocal. 2. Or. make 
the narnt sound of r, and mix it with the aspirate, by clapping 
: against the mof of the mouth ; practice prolonging her, 
•r purr in a whisper, trilling the r, then add the voice sound ; af- 
: refix the t, and exercise as above. 3. Demosthenes, in 
the early part of his career, was reproached for not being able to 
pronounce, correctly, the first letter of his favorite art— Rhetoric : 
i. e. he could not trill it for some time. 4. Give only one trill or 
cltp of the tongue, unless the sentiment be very animating ; as — 
B : se— brothers, rise! etc "Strike! till the last armed foe ex- 
Id res." 

145. Another. The riven rocks are 
rudely rent asunder, and the rifted trees 
rush alorn: the river, while hoa-ry 6ore-as 
rends the robes of spring, and rat-tling thun- 
der roars around the rock-y re-gions: Roben 
Rowley rolled a round roll round; a round 
roll, Robert Rowley rolled round ; where roll- 
ed the round roll, Robert Rowley rolled 
round \ 

Didst ever see 
Two gentle vines, each — round the other twined, 
So fondly, closely, that they hid become, 
E'.a their growth, blended U gether 
Into one singL tree ? 



Anecdote. Spinster. Formerly, it 
maxim, that a young woman should n< 



Proverbs. 1. He, who resolves to amend, 
has God on his side. 2 Honest men are boo* 
bound ; but you can -never bind a knave. 3. If 
the best mart's faults were written on his fore- 
head, it would make him pull his hat over his 
eyes. 4. Life is half spent, before we knew what 
it is. 5. Of the tiro evils, choose the least. 6. 
One bad example spoils many pood precepts 7. 
Patience — is a plaster for all sores. 8. He wbe 
serves tr ell — need not be afraid to ask his Ttaptt. 
9. If you will not hear reason, she will rap yo« 
over your knuckles. 10. Prayer — should oe the 
key of the day, and the lock of the nighl. 11. 
Foul water will quench Jire. 12. Fiom netting 
— nothing can come. 

was 
young woman snouia never 
be married, till she had spun, herself, a full 
set of linen. Hence, all unmarried women 
have been called spinsters : an appellation 
they still retain in certain deeds, and law 
proceedings ; though many are not entitled 
to it. 

Mathematics — includes the study of 
numbers and magnitudes : hence, it is called 
the science of gravity ; and is applicable to 
all quantities, that can be measured — by a 
standard unit, and thus expressed by num- 
bers and magnitude. Feeling and thought, 
though they vary immensely, cannot be 
measured : we cannot say, with strict pro- 
priety, that we love one — exactly tiaice as 
much as another ,- nor. that one — is three 
times as wise as another : because lore and 
wisdom are not mathematical quantities: 
but we can measure time by seconds, min- 
utes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, and 
centuries; space by inches, feet, yards, rods, 
and miles ; and motion, by the space passed 
over in a given time. 

Varieties. 1. Was the world create! 
out of nothins ? 2. Fools — draw false con 
clusians, from just principles : and mad- 
men draw just conclusions, from false prin 
ciples. 3. The discovery of what is true, 
and the practice of what is good, are the two 
most important objects of life- 4. Associa 
tions — between persons of opposite tempera 
merits, can neither be durable, nor produc- 
tive of real pleasure to either party. 5. 
Where grace cannot enter, sin increases* 
and abounds. 6. The spontaneous gifts of 
heaven, are of high value ; but perseverance 
— gains the prize. 7. When the will — be- 
comes duly resigned to God. in small things, 
as well as srtat ones, all the affections will 
be reduced~into their proper state, in their 
proper season. 

The icretch, condemn'd with life to part. 
Still, still on hope relies, 

And every pang, that rends his heart, 
Bids expectation rise. 

Hope, like the glimmering taper' t light, 
.Morns — and cheers his way, 

And still, as darker grows the night. 
Emits a brighter ray. 



PRINCIPLES OP ELOCUTION. 



55 



146. Keep a watchful and jealous eye 
over common- opinions, prejudices and bad 
school instruction, until the influence of rea- 
son, nature and truth, is so far established 
over the ear and taste, as to obviate the dan- 
ger of adopting or following, unquestionable 
errors, and vicious habits of reading and 
speaking: extended views, a narrow mind 
extend. To judge righteously of all things, 
preserve the mind in a state of perfect equi- 
librium, and let a love of truth and goodness 
govern all its decisions and actions. 

14T. W, has but one consonant 
sound, and one vowel sound; 
WOO ; a wan-ton wag, with wo- 
ful words, be-wail-ed the well 
wish-er of the wig-wa.ru ; the 
dwarf dwells in the wea-ry west, [W >« woo.] 
where wow-en weave well th'e warp of life, 
and win-ter winds wa?i-der in the wUd 
swamps, that wail and weep : the wa-ter- 
witch, al-ways war-worn hi the ioar-works, 
war-b\es her watch-word to the weath-er- 
wise, and re-wards the wick-ed with weep- 
ing, wail-ins; and worm-wood. 

14:8. By separating these elements of lan- 
guage, and practicing on them, each by itself, 
the exact position and effort of the vocal or- 
gans, may be distinctly observed ; and in this 
way, the true means of increasing and im- 
proving the force and quality of every one 
ascertained. Be not discouraged at the ap- 
parent mechanical, artificial and constrained 
modes of giving the sounds, and pronoun- 
cing the words : acquire accuracy, and ease 
and gracefulness will inevitably follow. 

149. Irregulars. 17 has this sound in 
certain words: the /zw-guish of the a?i-ti-qua- 
ry is as-sua-ged with lan-guid /nan-sue-tude. 
for the con-quest over bis dis-tin-guish-ed 
per-swa-sion : the guide d\s-gui-ses his as- 
sue-tude of per-st*a-ding the dis-st^a-der. 

Notes. 1. To produce this sound, shape the mouth and lips 
as for whistling, aud make a voice sound ; or, pronounce the word 
do, and when the o is about to vanish, commence this vocal conso- 
nant, thus, do was.. 2. When w is initial^', e. begins a word or 

syllable, it is a consonayrt ; but when it ends one, it is equivalent to 
2i o in ooze ; new, how, now, pow-er, etc. 3. In sioord, troo, an- 
noer, it is silent : w also before r, lorap, torack, tereath, torist, 
u-rong, etc. bloto, toho, knouHedge, tohom, ichose, tohole, tuhoop, 
etc. 4. Practice changes on to and v, as found under 2d/. 5. He 
who a watch would wear, two things must do, pocket his watch, 
and watch his pocket too. 

Anecdote. A Scold. Foote, a celebrated 
comic actor, being scolded by a woman, said, 
in reply, " I have heard of tartar — and 
brimstone ; — you are the cream of the one, 
and the flower of the other." 

1 Ask for what end — the heavenly bodies shine ? 
Earth— for whose use ? — Man answers, 'Tis (oTmine; 
For me — kind nature wakes her genial power, 
Suckles each herb, and spreads out every flovoer ; 
Annual for me— the grape, the rose renew 
The juice nectareoui, and the balmy dew: 
For me — health — pushes from a thousand springs; 
For me — the mine — a thousand treasures brings, 
Seas mil — to waft me, tuns — to light me rise, 
My fooUtool — earth, my canopy— the shies." 



Proverbs. 1. It is ea&ier to praise porerty, 
than to bear it. 2. Prevention — is better than 
cure. 3. Learn wisdovt by the follies of others. 
4. Knowledge, without practice, makes but half 
an artist. 5. When you want any thing, always 
ask the price of it. 6. To cure idleness, count the 
i tickings of a clock. 7. It costs more to revenge 
injuries, than to endure them. 8. Conceited men 
think nothing can be done without them. 9. He, 
that kills a man, when he is drunk, must be hung 
when he is sober. 10. An idle man's head, is the 
devil's work-shop. 11. God makes, and apparel 
shapes. 12. Good watch prevents harm. 

The Difference. Two teachers apply 
for a school ; one — is ignorant, but offers to 
teach for twelve dollars a mo?ilh ; the other 
— is well qualified for the station, and asks 
twenty-Jive dollars a month. The fathers — 
weigh the souls of their children against 
money, and the twelve dollar teacher is em- 
ployed. A man in search of work asks a 
farmer, if he does not want tc hire a hand ? 
44 If I can find one to suit me," — the farmer 
replies: and then he puts a variety of ques- 
tions to him; such as, — "Can you mow? 
reap? chop? cradle? hoe? dress flax? &c.'' 
Soon after, another stranger calls, and asks 
whether they wish to hire a teacher in their 
district ? But the ■principal question in this 
case, is — ' ' How much do you ask a month ?" 
Now, just observe the difference — in the 
catechising of the two applicants. Again, 
the father — will superintend the hired man, 
and have things so arranged — as not to lose 
a moment's time, — and see that nothing 
goes to waste ; but the same watchful parent 
— will employ a teacher, and put him into 
the school, and never go near him. 

Varieties. 1 If a man begin a fool, he 
is not obliged to persevere. 2. Ought cir- 
cumstantial evidence to be admitted in cri- 
minal cases ? 3. Suspicio?i — is always worse 
than fact. 4. No duty, imposed by neces- 
sity, should be considered a burthen. 5. To 
act from order, is to act from heave?i. 6. 

Truth, however little, does the mind good. 
7. True love always gives forth true light , 

false light agrees not with the truth, but 
lightly esteems it ; and also, seems to itself, 
to be better than truth. 

Great were the hearts, and strong the mind*., 
Of those, who framed, in high debate, 

The immortal league of love, that binds 
Our fair, broad Empire, State with State 

And deep the gladness of the hour, 

When, as the auspicious task was done, 
In solemn trust, the sword of power, 

Was giv'n to glory'? unspo I'd son. 
That noble race is gone ; the suns 

Of fifty years — have risen, >md set ; 
But the bright links, those chosen ones 

So strongly forged, are brighter yet. 

Wide — as our own free race increase--- 
Wide shall extend the elastic chain 

And bind, in everlast ng peace, 
State after Stated a mighty fain. 



56 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



150. Two grand objects are to be accom- 
plished by these lessons and exercises: the 
acquiring a knowledge of the vowel and eon." 
mmant sounds, and a facility in pronoun- 
cing them : by means of which, the voice is 
partially broken, and rendered flexible, as 
well as controllable, and the obstacles to a 
clear and distinct articulation removed : there- 
fore, practice much, and dwell on every ele- 
mentary sound, taking the letters separately, 
and then combining them into syllables, 
words and sentences. 

151. Two of tlie three sounds of X: 
first, name sound,- or ks, when ,v , 

at the end of accented syllables, / —LIT 
and often when it precedes them ; i jv-^SJa^) i 
if followed by an abrupt conso- * — 
nant AXE: the cox-comb ex- [XinAXE.i 
pe-ri-en-ces the lnx-Vi-xy of ex-pa-ti-a-ting on 
the ex-joZo-sion of his ex-ces-sive ex-al-te-tion 
of the bux-om fair sex ; being anx-ious to 
ex-plain the or-tho-dox-y and te/-o-dox-y of 
Ex-crg--o-nus, the ex-pos-i-ter ex-po-ses the 
ex-ploit, of ex-pec/-ing to ex-plain how to 
ex-crete ex-cel-lent texts by ex-cm-ci-a-ting 
the wax of the ex-cheq-xiex. 

153. A good articulation — consists in giv- 
ing to every letter in a syllable, its due propor- 
tion of sound, according to the best pronun- 
ciation,- and, in making such a distinction 
between the syllables, of which words are 
composed, as that the ear, without difficulty, 
shall acknowledge their number, and per- 
ceive, at once, to which syllable each letter 
belongs. When these things are not observed, 
the articulation is in that proportion, defec- 
tive : the great object is — to articulate so well, 
that the hearer can perfectly understand 
what is read or spoken, without being obliged 
to have recourse to a painful attention. A 
good articulation is the foundation of good 
delivery: as the sounding of the musical 
notes with exactness, is the foundation of 
good singing. 

153. Play upon Xes. Charles X. x-king 
of France, was xtravagantly xtolled, but is 
xceedingly xecrated. He xperienced xtra- 
ordinary xcellence in xigencies ,- hewasxcel- 
lent in xternals, but xtrinsic in xtacy ; he was 
xtatic in xpression, xtreme in xcitement, and 
xtraordinary in xtempore xpression. He was 
xpatriated for his xcesses, and, to xpiate his 
xtravagance, was xcluded, and xpired in 
xpulsion. 

Notes. 1. To produce this diphthongal aspirate sound, 
vehirpcr the word fct*», and then repeat it, and leave cut the i ; Vst : 
one of the most unpleasant sounds in our language. 2. Since the 
word diphthong merely signifies a double sound, there is no impro- 
priety in calling double contonants, diphthongs, as we do certain 
xxrwelt. 3. All critical skill 'u the sound of language, has its foun- 
dation in the practical Knowledge of the nature and properties of 
tese elements: remember this and apply yourself accordingly. 
C In all rases, get the propel sounds of letters, as given in the 
tey\ewfc, or first examples. 

To err— ie human , to forgive— divine. 



Proverbs. . If better were within, tittel 
would come out. 2. Jests, like siceetmeatt, have 
often sour sauce. 3. Keep aloof from quarrels; 
be neither a witness, nor a party. 4. Least said, 
the soonest mended. 5 Little boats should keep 
near shore ; greater ones may venture more. 6. 
Some — are more nice than ?<?ise. 7. Make a wrong 
step, and down you go. 8. We all live and learn. 
9. Riches, (like manure,) do no good, till they ar« 
spread. 19. Silks and »atins often put out the 
kitchen/ire. 11. Some— would go to the devil, if 
they had authority for it. 12. Love virtue, and 
abhor vice. 13. Good counsel has no price. 

Anecdote. Matrimony. A father, wish- 
ing to dissuade his daughter from all thoughts 
of matrimony, quoted the words : " She who 
marries, doeth well ; but she who marries 
not, doeth better.^ The daughter, meekly 
replied, " Father, J am content to do well) 
let those do better, who can." 

Boundaries of Knowledge. Human 
reason — very properly refuses to give its 
assent to any thing, but in proportion as it 
sees how that thing is, or is done. Now, 
there are three directions — in natural science, 
which are attended with their difficulties. 
The astronomer — sees — and feels a diffi- 
culty — in getting from the solar system — to 
the universe ; the chemist, in proceeding 
from matter — to its mysterious essence; 
and the physiologist, in advancing from the 
body — to the soul ; three kingdoms of know- 
ledge — bordering on kingdoms — unknown to 
natural science. Without reason, man could 
never become elevated above his senses, and, 
consequently, could not become a rational 
and intellectual being, and, of course, not 
man, in the true sense of the term. But 
our minds are so constituted, that after hav- 
ing traversed the material creation, ano. 
perceived, scientifically, the very bnundarie* 
of matter, where it is adjoined by spirit, it 
can elevate itself, by a power, constantly 
given by God, to the lower boundaries of 
spirit, where it touches upon matter, and 
then, by its derived powers, ascend step by 
step, to the great I Am; whom to know 
aright, and whom to love supremely, is the 
chief good of man. 

Varieties. 1. When man sins, angels 
weep, and devils rejoice. 2. True polite- 
ness, springs from the heart. 3. What is 
that, which makes every body sick, except 
those who swallow it ? Flattery. 4. Science 
has no enemy, but ignorance. 5. Be not too 
brief in conversation, lest you be not under* 
stood ; nor too diffuse, lest you be trouble- 
some. 6. Simplicity, and modesty, are 
among the most engaging qualities of every 
superior mind. 7- We live in two worlds 
a natural and a spiritual one. 

I would never kneel at a gildei thrxnt, 

To worship the idol — gold; 

I would never fetter this heart of mine, 

As a thing — for fortune sold : 

But I'd bow— to the light th' ' God hath gtvsn, 

The nobler light— of mind ; 

The only light, save that of Heaven, 

That should free-will homage fin* 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



57 



154. Reading— should be a perfect fac- 
simile of correct speaking ; and both exact 
copies of real life .« hence, read just as you 
would naturally speak on the same subject, 
and under similar circumstances : so, that if 
any one should hear you, without seeing you, 
he could not tell whether you were reading 
or speaking. Remember that nothing is de- 
nied to industry and perseverance ; and that 
nothing valuable can be obtained without 
them. 

155. The second sound of X is that 
of gz 5 generally, when it imme- xJl^ 
diately precedes the accent, and /s / -^-\\ 
is followed by a vowel sound, or (v^cS^ 
the letter h, in words of two or v — ' / 
more syUables; EXIST ; the ex- [X in exist.] 
Aor-ter is en-hau st-ed by his ex-u-ber-ant ex- 
or-di-um, and desires to be ex-on-er-a-ted 
from ex-ara-in-ing the ux-o-ri-ous ex-ec-u- 
tive ; an ex-act ex-awz-in-a-tion into the ex-ag- 
ger-a-tions of the auxyiZ-li-a-ries ex-Mo-its a 
lcx-tt-ri-ant ex-ile, who ex-ist-ed an ex-o£-ic 
in ex-em-pla-ry ex-al-fa-tion. 

156. The letters o, and e, in-to and the,axe 
long, before vowels, but abbreviated before 
tonsonants, ( unless emphatic, ) to prevent 
a hiatus. Th' man took the instrument and 
began V play th' tune, when th' guests were 
ready to eat. I have written to Obadiah t' 
send me some of th' wheat, that was brought 
in th' ship Omar, and which grew on th' land 
belonging t' th' family of the Ashlands. Are 
you going from town! No I am going to 
town. Th' vessel is insured to, at and from 
London. 

Notes. 1. To make this diphthongal vocal sound, close the 
teeth as if to give the sound of C, and then bring into contact the 
posteriors, or the roots of the tongue, and back parts of the throat, 
and pronounce the imaginary word guz, several times ; then omit 
the u, and pronounce the g, z, by themselves : g — z. 2. For the 3d 
■ound of X, see the third sound of C. 3. These elemental sounds 
was the favorite study among the ancients, of the greatest ability. 

157. Sight Reading. To become a good 
reader, and a reader at sight, one must al- 
ways let the eyes precede the voice a number 
of words ; so that the mind shall have time, 
clearly, and distinctly, to conceive the ideas to 
be communicated ; and also feel their influ- 
ence : this will give full play to the thoughts, 
as well as impart power from the affectuous 
part of the mind, to the body, for producing 
the action, and co-operation, of the right 
muscles and organs to manufacture the 
sounds and words. In walking, it is always 
best to see where we are about to step ; it is 
equally so in reading, when the voice walks. 
Indeed, by practice, a person will be able to 
take in a line or two, in anticipation of the 
vocal effort : always look before you leap. 

The high, the mountain-majesty— of worth — 
Should be, and shall, survive its woe ; 
And, from its immortality,— look forth — 
In the sun's face, — like yonder Alpine snow, 
Imperishably pure— beyond all things below 
8 



Proverbs. 1. If you would lend a man 
money, and make him your enemy, ask him for St 
again. 2. He that goes ^'borrowing, goes a sor- 
rowing. 3. The innocent— often suffer through 
the indolence and negligence of others. 4. Two gu 
a trade seldom agree. 5. When the Lord revives 
his work, the Devil revives his. 6. He that 
swells in prosperity, will shrink in adversity. 7. 
It is human to err ; but diabolical to persevere in 
error. 8. For a cure of ambition, go in the church- 
yard, and read the gravestones. 9. Better get in 
the right path late, than never. 10. A real friend 
— is discerned in a trying case. 11. Every one 
can acquire a right character. 12. Two wrongs— 
don't make a right. 

Anecdote. Zeno — was told, that it was 
disreputable for a philosopher to be in love. 
" If that were true,''' 1 said the wise man, 
'' the fair sex are indeed to be pitied ; for 
they would then receive the attention of 
fools alone.' 1 '' 

Mental Violence. Everything which 
tends to discompose or agitate the mind, 
whether it be excessive sorrow, rage or fear, 
envy, or revenge, love or despair — in short, 
whatever acts violently on our mental facul- 
ties — tends to injure the health. 

Varieties. 1. Washington — was bcrn 
Feb. 22d, 1732, and died Dec. 14th, 1799 ; 
how old was he ? 2. We cannot love those, 
whom we do not respect. 3. Order— is the 
same in the world, in man, and in the 
church ; and. man is an epitome of all the 
principles of order. 4. In factions, the most 
ignorant are always the most violent. 5. 
The good man has God in his heart, when 
he is not in his mouth : but the hypocrite- 
has God in his mouth, without having him 
in his heart. 6. It is some hope of good' 
ness, not to grow worse ; but it is a part of 
badness, not to grow better. 7. Why should 
we seek — that love, that cannot profit us, or 
fear — that malice, that cannot hurt us ? 

WARREN'S ADDRESS AT THE BUNKER HILL BATTLE 
Stand ! the ground's your own, my bravti 
Will ye give it up to slaves ? 
Will ye look for greener graves ? 

Hope ye mercy still ? 
What's the mercy despots feel ! 
Hear it— in that battle peal ! 
Read it — on yon bristling steel I 

Ask it — ye who will. 
Fear ye foes who kill for hire ? 
Will ye to your homes retire ? 
Look behind you ! they're afire t 

And before you, see 
Who have done it!— From the vols— 
On they come !— and will ye quail ? 
Leaden rain and iron hail 

Let their welcome be ! 
.n the God of battles trust ! 
Die we may — and die we must : — 
But, O ' where — can dust — to dust 

Be consigned so well, 
As where heaven — its dews shall shea 
On the martyr'd patriot's bed, 
And the rocks shall raise their head. 

Of his deeds to tell t [riERPOHT 



58 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



^^ 



138. An accurate knowledge of these ele- 
mentary sounds, which constitute our vocal 
alphabet, and the exact co-operation of the 
appropriate organs to give them truly, are 
essential to the attainment of a good and ef- 
ficient elocution. Therefore, be resolved to 
understand them thoroughly ; and, in your 
various efforts to accomplish this important 
object, give precision and full force to every 
sound, and practice faithfully, and often, the 
difficult and rapid cftanges of the vocal pow- 
ers, required by the enunciation of a quick 
succession of the muscle-breakers. 

159* The sound of Y, -when a conso- 
nant; YE: the year-ling young- 
ster, yelled for the yel-low yolk, 
?/es-ter-night, and yearn-ed in the 
yard o-ver the year-book till he 
yex'd: the yoke yields to your [Yin ye.] 
year-ling, wluch yearns for the yar-rovr in 
the yawls ; you yerk'd your yeast from the 
yawn-mg yeo-man yes-ter-day, and yet your- 
self, of yore, yea, tho' young, yearn-ed o-ver 
the yes-ty yawn : Mr. Yew, did you say, or 
did you not say, what I said you said 1 be- 
cause Mr. Yewyaw said you never said what 
I said you said : now, if you say that you 
did not say, what I said you said, then pray 
what did you say 1 

160. The first step to improvement is, to 
awaken the desire of improvenmnt : whatev- 
er interests the heart, and excites the imagi- 
nation, will do this. The second is a clear 
and distinct classification of the principles, 
on which an art is based, and an exact ex- 
pression of them, in accordance with this 
classification ; indeed, all the arts and scien- 
ces should be seen in definite delineations, 
thro' a language which cannot well be mis- 
understood. 

161. Irregulars. E, I, J, and U, occa- 
sionally have this sound ; Eu-rone aWen-ates 
the con-spic-u-ous cult-nre of her no-iads, 
and, like a dis-guised creat-wce, eu-lo-gi-ses 
her j u-n\or court-iers for their oroZ-liant gen- 
ins : the virt-u-ous christ-ian sold-ier, in spir- 
it-u-al un-ion with the mill-ions of Nat-nre, 
shouts with eu-cha-m-tic grand-ewc, en-pho- 
ui-ous hal-le-lu-jahs, which are fa-miMar-ly 
read, throughout the vol-ume of the U-ni- 
verse. 

Notes. To give this vocal sound, nearly close the teeth, 
■ntu the lips turned out as in making long e, (see engraving,) and 
drawlingly pronounce the word yet, protracting the sound of the 

y thus, y et ; y on. 2. For the two other sounds of y, see 

the two sounds of t ; rhyme, hymn ; isle, ile. 3. F is a consonant at 
tie beginning cf i word or syllable, except in y-clad, (c-clad,) j- 
Uept, (e-cl*pt) y-ri-a, (tf-ri-a,) Yp-si-ton-ti, (Ip-si-tan-ti,) the name 
of a trwn in Michigan. 4. In prod-uce, u has its name sound ; 
trt .to volume, it has this con-so-nant sound of y preceding it; 
k ibefirtt, it is preceded by an abrupt element: in the $tctmd\ by 
■a upm one. 

If I could find some cave unknown, 

Where human feet have never trod, 
Rren there — I could not be alone, 

On every side— there would be GoA 



Proverbs, 1. The shorter answer— is doing 
the tiling. 2. You cannot quench fire with tow. 

3, There is no general rule without exceptions. 

4. Happiness— is not in a cottage, nor in a palace, 
nor in riches, nor in poverty, nor in learning, nor 
in ignorance, nor in active, nor in passive life ; 
but in doing right, from right motives. 5. Good 
intention — is not reft rmation. 6. It is setf-conceit, 
that makes a man obstinate. 7. To cure a fit of 
passion, walk out in the open air. 8. Idle men 
are dead, all their lives long. 9. If you would 
know the value of money, earn it. 10. Hearts 
may agree, tho' heads— differ. 11. Beware of 
jlirting and coquetry. 12. There is no place like 
home. 13. He that is warm, thinks others so. 

Anecdote. A Vain Mother. As a lady 
— was viewing herself in a looking-glass, 
she said to tier daughter : " What would 
you give — to be as handsome as 1 am?" 
" Just as much, (replied the daughter,) as 
you would, to be as young as / am." 

The Poor. How few, even of professing 
christians, are aware of the pleasure, arising 
from contributing to the support of the poor ! 
Is it not more blessed to give — than to re- 
ceive ? But there are alms for the mind — as 
well as for the body. If we duly considered 
our relations, and our destinies, instead of 
giving grudgingly, or wanting to be called 
upon, we should go out in search of the des- 
titute and ignorant, and feel that we were per- 
forming the most acceptable service to God, 
while sharing the gifts of his providence with 
our fellow-beings, who are as precious in his 
sight — as we fancy ourselves to be: for he 
does not regard any from their external situ- 
ation, but altogether from their internal state. 

Varieties. 1. American independence—' 
was acknowledged by Great Britain, Jan. 
19, 1783 ; and the treaty of Ghent signed, 
Dec. 24, 1814. 2. Never do an act, of 
which you doubt the justice. 3. Nothing 
can be a real blessing, or curse, to the soul, 
that is not made its own by appropriation. 

4. Let every man be the champion of right. 

5. How sharper — than a serpenVs tooth it is 
to have a thankless child. 6. All science has 
its foundation in experience. 7. Happy are 
the jniseries that end in joy; and blessed are 
the joys, that have no end. 

Ay, I have planned full many a sanguine scheme 
Of earthly happiness; * * * 

And it is hard 
To feel the hand of death— arrest one's steps, 
Throw a chill blight — on all one's budding hopes 
And hurl one's soul, untimely, to the shades, 
Lost in the gaping gulf of blank oblivion. 
—Fifty years hence, and who will think of Henryl 
Oh. none!— another busy brood of beings 
Will shoot up in the interim, and none 
Will hold him in remembrance. — 

/shall sink, 
As sinks a stranger — in the crowded streets 
Of busy London : — some short bustle's caused, 
A few inquiries, and the crowd close m, 
And all's forgotten. [h. k. WHITH. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



162. Many consider elocution merely as an 
accomplishment and that a desultory, in- 
stead of a systtr.tatic attention, is all that is 
necessary. A regular, scientific and progres- 
sive course, in this as well as every thing else, 
is the only correct, effectual, and rapid mode 
of proceeding. If improvement be the object, 
whether we devote little, or much attention, 
to a pursuit, be it mental or manual, system 
and method are absolutely essential : order — 
is heaven's^rs/, and last law. 

163. One of the three sounds of Ch ; 
* hich may be represented by tch : k , 
CHANGE; the cheat choked a /^-E7\ 
child for choos-'mg to chop a chump k^^i 
of chives for the arch-deacon of \\^-~-')/ 
Green-v/ich: a chap chased a [ch in chip.] 
chick-en into the church, and the churl-ish 
chap-ldiin check'd it for char-i-ty, the Sa- 
chem of Wool-wich, chuck-led over the ur- 
chin's cAtf-chat, and snatched his rich peach- 
es, and pinch'd them to chow-der ; the chief 
of iVor-wich, charm'd by the chaunt-mg of 
the chirp-in* chough, chafed his chilAy chin 
by fouch-mg it on the chal-ky chim-ney: 
three chub-by chil-dren, in Richfield, were 
each choked with choice chunks of cheese, 
much of which Sancho Panza purchased of 
Charles Chickering on Chimborazo. 

164:. In all cases of producing sounds, ob- 
serve the different positions of the organs, 
and remember, that the running through with 
the forty-four sounds of our language, is 
like running up the keys of an instrument, 
to see if all is right : be satisfied with nothing, 
short of a complete mastery over the whole 
subject. Be very particular in converting all 
the breath that escapes into sound, when rea- 
ding or singing; and remember, that the 
purer the sound, the easier it may be made ; 
the less will be the injury to the vocal organs, 
the farther it will be heard, and with the 
more pleasure will it be listened to. Do not 
forget the end, the cause, and the effect. 

?foteS. 1. Toproduce this most unpleasant triphthongal 
sound in our language, close the teeth, and, as you suddenly separ- 
ate them, whisper chu, (u short,) and you will accomplish the ob- 
ject 2. In dracAm, the ch, are siient. 3. Always try to improve 
•be sounds as well as your voice. 4. Quinctiian says, in rescm- 
mending a close attention to the study of the simple elements, 
M whoever will enter into the inmost recesses of this sacred edifice, 
will find many things, not only proper to sharpen the ingenuity of 
children, but able to exercise the most profound erudition, and the 
deepest science :'' indeed, they are the fountains in the science of 
KJund and vocal modulation. 

Anecdote. Principal — Interest. A 
debtor, when asked to pay his creditor, ob- 
served to him : that " it was not his interest 
to pay the principal, nor his principle to pay 
the interest." What do you think of such 
a man? 

Unhappy he, who lets a tender heart, 
Bound to him— by the ties of earliest love, 
Fau from him, by his own neglect, and die, 
Because it met no kindness. 



Proverbs. 1. Humility — ga ns more lhan 
pride. 2. Never be weary in well-diing. 3. Ex* 
pect nothing of those who promise a great deal. 
4. Grieving for misfortunes, is adding gall to 
mormwood. 5. He, who would catch fish, must 
not mind getting wet. 6 He that by the plow 
would thrive, must either hold, himself, or drive. 
7. Idleness — is the greatest prodigality in th« 
world. 8. If the counsel be good, no matter whl 
gave it. 9. Occupation — cures one half of ifc'i 
troubles, and mitigates the other. 10. We bear 
no afflictions so patiently as those of 4 there. 11. 
Let Nature have her perfect work. 12. Soft 
hands, and soft brains, generally go together. 

To speak of Howard, the philanthropist, 
without calling to mind the eloquent eulo- 
gium, in which Burke has embalmed his 
memory, would be as impossible — as it would 
be to read that eulogium without owning that 
human virtue never received a more illus- 
trious manifestation. >f Howard,'" said the 
prator, ' ' was a man, who traversed foreign 
countries, not to survey the sumptuousness 
of palaces, or the stateliness of temples ; not 
to make accurate measurements of the re- 
mains of ancient grandeur, nor to form a 
scale of the curiosity of modern art ; not to 
collect medals, or manuscripts ; but, to diva 
into the depths of dungeons ; to plunge ia 
the infection of hospitals ; to survey the 
mansions of sorrow and pain ; to take the 
guage and dimensions of misery, depression, 
and contempt ; to remember the forsaken ; 
and to compare and collate the distresses of 
all men, under all climes." In the prose- 
cution of this god-\ike work, Howard made 
" a voyage of discovery, a circumnavigation 
of charity," and at last — fell a victim to his 
humanity; for, in administering medicine to 
some poor wretches in the hospital at Cher- 
son, in the Crimea, he caught a malignant 
fever, and died in the glorious work of bene 
volence. Thus fell the man who — 

" Girding creation — in one warm embrace, 
Outstretch'd his savior-arm — from pole to pole, 
And felt akin — to aU the human race." 

Varieties. 1. To promote an unworthy 
person — disgraces humanity. 2. Read not 
books alone, but men; and, especially, thy- 
self. 3. The human mind is a mirror — of 
the incomprehensible Divinity. 4. No one 
need despair of being happy. 5. The rea- 
son, that many persons want their desires, 
is — because their desires want reason. 6. 
Passions — act as wind, to propel our vessel ; 
and our reason — is the pilot that steers her : 
without the wind, we could not move, and 
without the pilot, we should be lost. 7. 
The more genuine — the truths are, which 
we receive, the purer will be the good, that 
is found in the life ; if the truths are applied 
to their real and proper uses. 

What, then, remains, but well our power to use, 

And keep good humor still, whatever we loae ? 

And trust me, dear, good humor can prevail, 

When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding— fail i 

Beauties — in vain, their pretty eyes may roll ; 

Charms strike the «gto but merit— wins the totd. 



60 



PRINCIPLES 0/ ELOCUTION. 



165. Vowel sounds are all formed in the 
larynx; and, on their emission, the articu- 
lating organs modify them into words. 
These words constitute language, which is 
used, by common consent, as signs of ideas ; 
•or as mediums for the manifestation of 

thought and feeling : it may be written, or 
spoken ; and the natural results are — books, 
papers and. zonversation : by means of which, 
the conceptions and affections of human 
minds are made known and perpetuated. 

166. Tli have two sounds; first a lisp- 
ing sound ; THIN : a thief thirst- \Xj^j 
eth for the path of death, and / E-s'o 
tom-keth at his thank-less thefts, (^pjg^) 

as the a-the-ist doth of the-o-ret- * ' 

l-cal truth; forth-with the thrift- [TH in thin.] 
less throng, threw thongs over the mouth of 
Vrith of Fourth, and thwar-ted the wrath of 
the thril-lmg thun-der; faith, quoth the 
youth, to the Vro-thon-0-ta.-ry, the bath is my 
berth, the hearth is my cloth, and the heath 
is my throne. 

167. Ventriloquism. In analyzing the 
?ounds of our letters, and practicing them 
upon different pitches, and with different 
qualities of voice, the author ascertained that 
this amusing art can be acquired and prac- 
ticed, by almost any one of common organi- 
zation. It has been generally supposed that 
ventriloquists possessed a different set of or- 
gans from most people ; or, at least, thafthey 
were differently constituted ; but this is alto- 
gether a misapprehension : as well might we 
say that the singer is differently constituted 
from one who does not sing. They have the 
same organs, but one has better command of 
them than the other. It is not asserted that 
all can' become equally eminent in these arts; 
for there will be at least, three grand divis- 
ions; viz, good, better and BEST. 

168. The Thistle Sifter. Theophilus This- 
tle, the successful thistle sifter, in sifting a 
sieve full of unsifted thistles, thrust three 
thousand thistles thro' the thick of his 
thumb: if then Theophilus Thistle, the suc- 
cessful thistle sifter, in sifting a sieve full of 
unsifted thistles, thrust three thousand this- 
tles thro' the thick of his thumb; see that 
thou, in sifting a sieve full of unsifted this- 
tles, dost not thrust three thousand thistles 
through the thick of thy thumb : success to 
the successful thistle sifter, who doth not get 
the thistles in his tongue. 

Notes. 1. To make this lisping diphthongal sound, press 
the tongue against the upper front teeth, and let the breath pass 
between them : or pronounce the word path, and dwell on the th 
sound ; see engraving. 2. To avoid lisping, draw the tongue back 
to a* not to touch the teeth, and take words beginning with », or tt ; 
tee the first sound of C for examples. S. Why should this sound be 
called lharp, rather than dull ? 4. Exactness In articulating every 
»ocal letter, is more important thai- correct spelling in cwnposi- 
HVm; for the fon ler it addressed to hundreds at the same instant, 
wfaile ti« lattst • wbm.tted to one or a few at a time. 



Proverbs. 1. Youth— indulges in hope ; old 
age — in remembrance. 2. One half of the world ■ 
delights in uttering slander, and the other— m 
hearing it. 3. Virtue— is the only true nobility. 

4. To bless, is to be bless'd. 5. P easures — are 
rendered bitter, by being abused. 6. Quarrels — 
would not last long, if the faults all lay on one 
side. 7. True merit— is dependent, neither on 
season, nor on fashion. 8. Hypocrisy — is the 
homage, which vice— renders to virtue. 9. The 
law— imposes on no one impossibilities. 10. Con- 
tempt of injuries, is proof of a great mind. 11. 
What ! hope for honey from a nest of wasps ? 
12. Shall we creep like snails, or fly like eagles ? 

Anecdote. A stranger — went into a 
church-yard, where two children were set- 
ting out flowers on some graves. " Whose 
graves are these? 1 ' said he. "Father, mo- 
ther, and little Johnny lie here." " Why do 
you set the flowers here ?"said the stranger. 
They looked at him with tears, and said— 
" We do love them so." 

Human ambition and human policy — labor 
after happiness in vain; — goodness — is the 
only foundation to build on. The wisdom 
of past ages — declares this truth ; — our own 
observation confirms it ; — and all the world 
acknowledge it ; — yet how few, how very 
few — are willing to act upon it ! If the in- 
ordinate love of wealth — and parade — be not 
checked among us, it will be the ruin of our 
country — as it has been, and will be, the 
ruin of thousands of others. But there are 
always two sides to a question. If it is per- 
nicious — to make money and style — the 
standard of respectability, — it is injurious — 
and v)rong — to foster prejudice against the 
wealthy and fashionable. Poverty — and 
wealth — have different temptations ; but they 
are equally strong. The rich — are tempted 
to pride — and insolence ; the poor — to jeal- 
ousy — and envy. The envious and discon- 
tented poor, invariably become haughty- 
and over-bearing, when they become rich , 
for selfishness — is equally at the bottom — of 
these opposite evils. 

Varieties. 1. The battle of New Or 
leans, was fought Jan. 8th, 1815. 2. A 
flatterer, is the shadow of a fool. 3. You 
cannot truly love, and ought not to be loved, 
if you ask any thing, that virtue condemns. 

5. Do men exert a greater influence on so- 
ciety than women ? 5. Self- exaltation, is the 
worst posture of the spirit. 6. A principle 
of unity, without a subject of unity, cannot 
exist. 7. Where is the wisdom, in saying to 
a child, be a man ? Attempt not what God 
cannot countenance; but wait, and all thingi 
will be brought forth in their due season. 

Deceit ! thy reign is short : Hypocrisy, 
However gaily dress'd— in specious ga/b. 
In witching eloquence, or winning jrm'tej, 
Allures— bat for a time: Truth— lifts the vet* 
She lights her torch, and places it on higli, 
To spread intelligence— to all around. 
\ How shrinks the fawning slave— hypoa*-*- 

Then, when the specious veil— is rent in twain, 
Which screen'd the hideous monster— itota ourtw«# 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



6) 



169. Enunciation— is the utterance and 
combination of the elements of language, and 
the consequent formation of syllables, words, 
&c, as contradistinguished from the tones, 
and tuning of the voice, and all that belongs 
to the melody of speech. A perfect enuncia- 
tion — consists in the accurate formation of 
the sounds of the letters, by right motions 
and positions of the organs, accompanied by 
a proper degree of energy, to impress those 
elements fully and distinctly on the ear ; and 
the act of combining and linking those to- 
gether, so as to form them into words, capa- 
ble of being again combined into clauses 
and sentences, for the full conveyance of our 
ideas and determinations. r 

170. The second souad of th, is the 
vocal lisping: THAT; thou 
saidstthe truths are thine, and y^*y~ \ 
the youths say they are theirs /f ^^^ M 
who walk therein ; fath-er and \^j^f^/ J 
moth-ex bathe dai-ly, and their 

clothes and hearths are wor-thy [th in that.] 
of them ; broth-ex says, where-with-al shall I 
smoothe the scythe, to cut the laths to stop 
the mouths of the moths with-out be-ing both- 
ered 1 they gath-er wreaths be-neath the baths, 
and sheathe their swords with swath-ing 
bands, rather than make a blith-some pother 

171. Jaw-breakers. Thou wreaWd'st 
and muzzlWst the far-fetch' 'd ox, and im- 
prison' d'st him in the volcanic Mexican 
mountain of Pop-o-cfltf-a-peft in Co-ti-pa-x-i. 
Thou prob'd'st my racked ribs. Thou tri- 
JVd'st with his acts, that thou black'n'st and 
contaminated' 1 *st with his filch'd character. 
Thou lov'd'st the elves when thou heard'st 
and quick* it'd'st my heart's tuneful harps. 
Thou wagg'd'st thy prop'd up head, because 
thou thrusi'd'st three hundred and thirty 
three thistles thro' the thick of that thumb, 
that thou cur'd'st of the barb'd shafts. 

Notes. 1. To make this diphthongal vocal sound, place 
the organs as in the preceding th, and then add the voice sound, 
which can be made only in the larynx. 2. The terms sharp and 
flat, as applied to sound, are not sufficiently definite ; we might as 
well speak of square, round and dull sounds ; at the same time it is 
often convenient to use such terms, in order to convey our ideas. 
S. If you have imperfections of articulation, set apart an hour eve- 
ry day for practice, in direct reference to your specific defects ; and 
•o of every other fault ; particularly, of rapid utterance : this can 
be done either alone, or in company of those who can assist you. 

Sky, mountains, rivers, winds, lakes, lightnings '.—Ye, 
With night, and clouds, and thunder, and a sotd 
To make these jclt mi feeling; the far roll 
Of your departing voices — is the knell 
Of what in me is sleepless— if I rest. 

% * * 

Could I imbody and unbosom now 
rhat which is most within me— could I wreas 
?.ly thoughts upon expression, and thus throw 
Soul, heart, mind, passions, feelings strong or weak, 
All that I would jave sought, and all I seek, 
Sear, know, feel, and yet breathe,— into one word, 
And that one word were lightning, I would speak !— 
But— as it is— I live, and die, unheard, 
Fib. a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword. 



Proverbs. 1. A promise performed, is pre- 
ferable to one made. 2. It will not always be 
summer. 3. Make hay, while the sun shines. 
4. Cut your coat according to the cloth. 5. Pride 
— costs us more than hunger, thirst, or cold. 6. 
Never spend your money before you have it. 7. 
Never trouble another, for what you can do your- 
self, fi. Slanderers — are the Devil's bellows, t8 
blowup contention. 9. The loquacity of /oc/s— 
is a lecture to the wise. 10. Vows made in 
storms, are forgotten in calms. 11. We must form 
our characters for both worlds. 12. Progress— 
is the great law of our being. 

A Pnzzle. Here's a health to all those 
that we love ; and a health to all those thai 
love us ; and a health to all them, that love 
those, that love them, that love them that love 
those that love us. 

Anecdote. Half Mourning. A little 
girl, hearing her mother observe to another 
lady, that she was going into half mourning 
inquired, whether any of her relations were 
half dead ? 

What is Ours. It is not those, who 
have riches in their possession, that are real- 
ly rich ; but they, who possess, and use them 
aright, and thereby enjoy them. Is he a 
true christian, who has a Bible in his posses- 
sion, but does not live by the Bible ? Is 
he a genuine christian, who reads, but does 
not understand the word, and, from under- 
standing, practice it ? As well may one 
say, that they are rich, who have borrowed 
money from others, or have the property of 
others in their possession. What do we 
think of those, who go dressed in fine clothes, 
or ride in splendid carriages, while none of 
these things are their own property ? Know- 
ledges, or truths — stored up in the memory, 
are not ours, really and truly, unless we re- 
duce them to practice : they are like hear- 
says of great travelers, of which nothing 
more than the sound reaches us. Under- 
standing — does not make the man, but un- 
derstanding and doing, or living accordingly. 
There must be an appropriation of know- 
ledge and truth — by the affections, in deeds, 
or they are of no avail: "Faith, without 
works, is dead:" the same principle applies 
to a society, and to a church. 

Varieties. 1. Burgoyne — surrendered, 
Oct. 17, 1777, and Comwallis, Oct. 19, '81. 
2. Happy is that people whose rulers — rule 
in the fear of God. 3. Remember the past, 
consider the present, and provide for the fu- 
ture. 4. He, who marries for wealth, sell? 
his happiness for half price. 5. The covet- 
ous person is always poor. 6. If you would 
avoid wants, attend to every thing below you, 
around you, within you. and above you. 7. 
All the works of natural creation, are ex- 
hibited to us, that we may know the nature 
of the spiritual, and eternal; all things 
speak, and are a language. 
He was not born — to shame ; 
Upon his brow — shame — is ashamed to sit ; 
For 'tis a throne, where honor — may be crowne* 
Sole monarch— of the universal earth. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



173. The chief source of indistinctness is 
precipitancy; which arises from the bad 
method of teaching to read : the child not be- 
in:: taught the true beauty and propriety of 
reading, thinks all excellence consists in 
quickness and rapidity: to him the prize 
seems destined to the swift ; for he sets out 
at a gallop, and continues his speed to the 
end, regardless of how many letters, or sylla- 
bles, he omits by the way, or how many 
words he runs together. " reform it alto- 
gether." 

173. Wh have one sound; WHALE ; 
wherefore are whet-stones made ( 

of whirl-winds, and whip-lashes > \ \ 
of whirl-pools 1 Why does that /Y>£>"^>^ 
whimsical whis-tler whee-dle the I '^7y-, 
whip-por-wills with wheat! 
IVhi-lom the wheels whipped ^vh in whip.] 
the w hi f -de-tree, and u;Air-tle-ber-ries were 
white-washed for wheat; the whim-per-ing 
whi-ning whelp, which the whigs whi-ten- 
ed on the wharf was whelmed into a whirl- 
i-gig as a u>Atra-wham for a wheel-harrow of 
whis-ky. 

174. Causes of Hoarseness. Hoarseness, 
in speaking, is produced by the emission of 
more breath than is converted into sound,- 
which may be perceived by whispering a few 
minutes. The reason, why the breath is not 
converted into sound, in thus speaking, is, 
that the thorax, (or lungs,) is principally 
used ; an I when this is the case, there is al- 
ways an expansion of the chest, and conse- 
quently, a lack of power to produce sounds 
in a natural manner : therefore, some of the 
breath, on its emission through the glottis, 
over the epiglottis, and through the back 
part of the mouth, chafes up their surfaces, 
producing a swelling of the muscles in those 
parts, and terminating in what is called 
hoarseness. 

Notes. 1. This diphthongal aspirate may be easily made, 
by whispering the imaginary word wliu, (u short,) prolonging it a 
little 2. Since a diphthong is a double sound and a triphthong a 
triple sound, there is as much propriety in applying the term to 
tmuona.rU>, as to vowels. 3. Let the pupil, in revising, point out 
all the Monothongs, Diphthongs, Triphthongs, and Polythongs. 4. 
Make and keep a list of all your deficiencies in speech and song, 
and practice daily for suppressing them: especially, in articulation, 
and false intonations ; and never rest satisfied unless you can per- 
ceive a progress towards perfection at every exercise,— for all 
principles are immortal, and should be continually developing 
teeinselves. 

ITow sleep the brave, who sink to rest 
With all their country's wishes blest ! 
When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, . 
Returns — to deck their hallow'd mould, 
She there shall dress a sweeter sod 
Than Fancy's feet have ever trod : 
By Fairy hands— their knell is rung, 
By forms unseen— their dirge is sung ; 
There — Honor comes, a pilgrim {tray, 
To b'sss the turf, that wraps their clay ; 
And Freedom— shall a while repair 
Tc cwell, a weeping hermit, there. 



Proverbs. 1. Self-eraltation — is the fooVt 
paradise. 2. That, which is bitter to endure, may 
be sweet to remember. 3. The fo.l— is busy in 
every one's business but his own. 4. We may 
give advice, but we cannot give conduct. 5. 
Where reason — rules, appetite — obeys. 6. You 
will never repent of being patient and sober. 7. 
Zeal, without knowledge, is hkefire without light. 
8. Law-makers, should not be law-breakers. 9. 
Might— does not make right. 10. The greater 
the man, the greater the crime. 11. JVo one liveg 
for himself. 12. No one can tell how much be 
can accomplish, till he tries. 

Anecdote. Wine. Said a Rev. guest to 
a gentleman, with whom he was dining, and 
who was a temperance, man: '"I always 
think a certain quantity of wine does no 
harm, after a good dinner.' 1 '' " O no sir," 
replied mine host; "it is the zmceriain 
quantity that does the mischief. 

Winter Evenings. This seems pro- 
vided, as if expressly for the purpose — of 
furnishing those who labor, with ample op- 
portunity for the improvement of their minds. 
The severity of the weather, and the short- 
ness of the day, necessarily limit the pro- 
portion of time, which is devoted to oj^-door 
industry; and there is little to tempt us 
abroad — in search of amusement. Evert, 
thing seems to invite us — to employ an 
hour or two — of this calm and quiet season, 
in the acquisition of useful knowledge, and 
the cultivation of the mind. The noise of 
life is hushed ; the pavement ceases to re- 
sound with the d'm of laden wheels, and the 
tread of busy men ; the glowing sun has 
gone down, and the moon and the stars are 
left to watch in the heavens, over the slum- 
bers of the peaceful creation. The mind of 
man — should keep its vigils with them ; and 
while his body — is reposing from the labors 
of the day, and his feelings — are at rest from 
its excitements, he should seek, in some 
amusing and instructive page, substantial 
food — for the generous appetite for know 
ledge. 

Varieties. 1. The poor — may be con- 
tent ; and the contented are rich. 2. Hypo- 
crisy — desires to seem good, rather than to 
be good. 3. It is better to be beaten with 
few stripes, than with many stripes. 4. He 
who swears, in order to be believed, does not 
know how to counterfeit a man of truth. 5. 
Who was the greater monster, Nero, or Ca- 
taline? 6. Let nothing foul, or indecent, 
either to the eye, or ear, enter within the 
doors where children dwell. 7. We wor- 
ship God best, and most acceptably, when 
we resemble him most in our minds, live*. 
and actions. 

Home 1 how that blessed word— thrills the ear. 
In it — what recollections blend ! 

It tells of childhood's scenes sc dear, 
And 3peaks— of many a cherished friend. 

O ! through the world, where'er we roam, 
Though souls be pure — and lips be kind ; 

The heart, with fondness, turns to home, 
Still turns to those— it left behind. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



63 



175. The pupil, in Elocution and Music, 
is strongly urged to attend to the right and 
the wrong method of producing the sounds 
of our tetters, as well as in enunciating 
words. By all means, make the effort entire- 
ly below the diaphragm, while the chest is 
comparatively quiescent ; and, as you value 
health and life, and good natural speaking, 
avoid the cruel practice of exploding the 
■ounds, by whomsoever taught or recom- 
mended. The author's long experience, and 
practice, with his sense of duty, justify this 
protest against that unnatural manner of 
coughing out the sounds, as it is called. 
Nine-tenths of his hundreds of pupils, whom 
he has cured of the Bronchitis, have induced 
the disease by this exploding process, which 
ought itself to be exploded. 

176. The 44 sounds of our Language, 
in their alphabetical order. A 4; Ale, are, 
all, at: B 1 ; bribe: C 4; cent, clock, suffice, 
ocean : D 2 ; did, fac'd : E 2 ; eel, ell : F 2 ; 
fife, of: G 3; gem, go, rouge: H 1; hope: 
I 2 ; isle, ill : J 1 ; judge : K 1 ; kirk : LI; 
lily : M 1 ; mum : N 2 ; nun, bank : O 3 ; 
old, ooze, on : PI; pipe : Q 1 ; queen : R 2 ; 
arm, rough : S 4 ; so, is, sure, treasury : T 2 ; 
pit, nation : U 3 ; mute, up, full : V 1 ; w»- 
tl-W2; wall, bow : X 3 ; flax, exist, beaux : 
Y 3 , youth, rhyme, hymn : Z 2 ; zigzag, 
azure : Ch 3 ; church, chaise, chasm : Gh 3 ; 
laugh, ghost, lough : Ph2\ sphere, nephew : 
Th2; thin, that: Wh 1; whale: Oi 1; oil: 
Ou 1 ; sound : the duplicates, or those hav- 
ing the same sound, are printed in italics. 

177. " Bowels of compassion, and loins of 
the mind." In the light of the principles 
here unfolded, these words are full of mean- 
ing. All the strong affections of the human 
mind, are manifested thro' the dorsal and ab- 
dominal region. Let any one look at a boy, 
when he bids defiance to another boy, and 
challenges him to combat : " Come on, I am 
ready for you :" and at the soldier, with his 
loins girded for battle : also, observe the ef- 
fect of strong emotions on yourself, on your 
body, and where,- and you will be able to 
see the propriety of these words, and the 
world of meaning they contain. If we were 
pure minded, we should find the proper stu- 
dy of physiology to be the direct natural 
joad to the mind, and to the preser,©^. of the 
Detty. 

Notes. 1. Make these 44 sounds, which constitute our 
focal alphabet, as familiar to the ear, as the shapes of our 3G 
letters are to the eye; and remember, that success depends on 
tour mastery of them ; they are the «, b, c, of spoken language ; 
Uid the effort to make them has a most beneficial effect on the 
wealth and voice. 2. Keep up the proper use of the whole body, 
and you need not fear sickness. 3. The only solid foundation for 
•locution is, a perfect knowledge of the number and nature of these 
44 simple elements: error here will carry a taint throughout. 

Virtue — 
Stands like the sun, and all, which rolls around, 
©rinks lift, and light, and glory— from her aspect. 



Proverbs. 1. Truth— may be blamel, but 
never shamed. 2. What soberness — conceals, 
drunkenness — reveals. 3. Be you ever so high, 
the law is above you. 4 A mob — has many heads, 
but no brains. 5. A poor man's debt makes a 
great noise. 6. Busy-bodies — are always med- 
dling. 7. Crows — are never the whiter, for 
icashing themselves. 8. Good words— cost no- 
thing, and are worth much. 9. He, who pay* 
well, is master of every- body's purse. 10. Our 
knowledge — is as the rivulet ; our ignorance — a* 
the sea. 11. Consider well, before you promise. 
12. Dare to do right. 

Anecdote. Candor. A clergyman — once 
preached, during the whole of Lent, in a 
parish, where he was never invited to dine , 
and, in his farewell sermon, he said to his 
hearers, "I have preached against every 
vice, except good living ; which, I believe, 
is not to be found among you ; and, there- 
fore, needed not my reproach.'" 

Society owes All a Living. Every one 
must and will — find a livelihood; nor has 
society the choice, whether or not to provide 
for its members : for if an individual is not 
put in a way to earn a living, he will se^k 
it by unlawful means : if he is not educated 
— to lead a sober and industrious life, ht> will 
lead a life of dissipation ; and if society re- 
fuse to take care of him, in his minority, he 
will force it to notice him — as an object of 
self-defence. Thus, society cannot avoid 
giving a livelihood to all, whom providence 
has placed in its bosom ; nor help devoting 
time and expense to them ; for they are by 
birth, or circumstances, dependent on its as- 
sistance. While, then, it has the power- 
to make every one — available — as an honest, 
industrious and useful citizen, would it not 
be the best policy, (to say nothing of prin- 
ciples,) to do so ; and attach all to society, 
by ties of gratitude, rather than put them in 
a condition to become enemies ; a condition 
in which it will be necessary to punish them 
— for an alienation, which is the natural 
consequence oi destitution. Schools, found- 
ed on true christian principles, would, in the 
end, be much cheaper, and better — than to 
support cur criminal code, by the prosecu 
tions, incident to that state, in which many 
come up, instead of being brought up ; and the 
consequent expenses attending our houses 
of correction, penitentiaries, &c. (of which 
many seem to be proud,) on the score of 
public justice, but of which, on the score of 
christian love, we have reason to be deeply 
ashamed. 

Varieties. 1. Will not our souls— con- 
tinue in being forever? 2. He — is not so 
good as he should be, who does not strive to 
be better than he is. 3. Genius — is a plant, 
whose growth you cannot stop, without de- 
stroying it. 4. In doing nothing we learn 
to do ill. 5. Neither wealth, nor power, can 
confer happiness. 6. In heaven, (we havo 
reason to believe,) no one considers anything 
as good, unless others partake of it. 7. No* 
thing is ours, until we give it away. 
U doers— are ill thinkers. 



M 



+ 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



178. Orthography or Right Spelling. As 
we have two kinds of language, written and 
spoken, so, there are /wo modes of spelling,- 
one addressed to the ej/e, and exhibited by 
naming the letters; the o/Aer addressed to 
the ear, and spelled by giving the sounds, 
which the letters represent: the former meth- 
od, which is the common one, tends to the pre- 
dominant use of the throat, and lungs, and is 
one of the fruitful sources of consumption ,- 
the latter, which is the new one, serves to 
keep up the natural use of the appropriate 
muscles, and tends to prevent, as well as cure, 
dyspepsia, liver and lung complaints, and 
diseases of the throat. 

179. Classification of the Consonants. 
The first natural division of the consonants 
is into Vocal and Aspirate. Of the Vocal 
there are, as they stand in the alphabet, and 
their combinations, twenty-six ,- but deduct- 
ing the duplicates, there are but seventeen ,- 
viz : b, as in bib ; c, as in suffice ; d, as in 
de&d ,- f as in of; g, as in gem, go, rouge ; 
/, as in ill ,- m, as in me ; n, as in none, bank ; 
r, as in err, pride ; w, as in wo ; x, as in ex- 
ist ; ?/, as in yet ; and th as in this ; all of 
which should be given separately, as well as 
combined, and their differences observed. 

180. After the pupil has become familiar 
with reading by vowel sounds and spelling, 
as above recommended, let him be exercised 
in reading by the vowel and consonant 
sounds: i. e. by giving a perfect analysis 
of all the sounds, found in any of the words 
of the sentence before him ; which involves 
every thing relating to sounds, whether sin- 
gle, double, or triple,- and to articulation, 
accent, pronunciation, and emphasis. No 
one should wish to be excused from these 
very useful and important exercises ; for they 
are direrctly calculated to improve the voice, 
the ear, and the manner, while they impart 
that kind of knowledge of this subject, which 
will be felt to be power, and give one confi- 
dence in his own abilities. 

Tfotcs. 1. It is not a little amusing and instructive too, to 
examine the great variety of names, used by different authors, to 
wcslgnate the sounds of our letters, their classifications, &c. against 
which the charge of simplicity cannot be brought : in every thing, 
let us guard against learned and unlearned ignorance. 2. There 
ire those, who ought, from their position before the world, to be 
standard authorities in the pronunciation of letters and words, and 
in general delivk'7 ; but, unfortunately, on account of their sad de- 
fect and inaccura :ieg, in all those particulars, they constitute a court 
of Errors, instead of Appeal: consequently, we must throw our- 
lelves upon the firat principles and our own resources ; using, how- 
ever, such true lights as a kind Providence has vouchsafed us for 
our guidance. 

To him, who, in the love of nature, holds 
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks 
A various language ; for his gayer hours, 
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile, 
And eloquence of beauty ; and she glid.es 
Into his darker musing3— with a mild 
lnd gentle sympathy, that steals awav 
Their sharpness— ere he is aware. 



Proverbs. 1. As we act towards others, w« 
may expect others to act towards us. 2. A good 
orator is pointed, and vehement. 3. Idleness — is 
the rust of the mind, and the blight of genius. 4. 
Assist yourself, and heaven will assist you. 5. 
We should estimate man's character, by his good- 
ness ; not by his wealth. 6. Knowledge — is as es- 
sential to the mind, as food is to the body. 7. A 
good word is as soon said, as an ill one. 8. No 
temptation of emolument, can induce an honest 
man to do wrong. 9. Virtue — is the best, and 
safest helmet we can wear. 10. Against the 
fickleness of fortune, oppose a bold heart. 11. 
Never profess— what you do not practice. 12. 
Treat everyone with kindness. 

Anecdote. Keeping Time — from Eter- 
nity. Chief Justice Farsons, of Massachu- 
setts, having been shown a watch, that was 
looked on as well worthy of notice, as it had 
saved a man's life, in a duel, remarked, — 
" It is, indeed, a very astonishing watch, 
that has kept time — from eternity." 

The Difference. Why is it, that many 
professors of religion — are so reluctant, to 
have the reading of the Bible, as well as 
speahing and singing, conducted in a cor- 
rect and proper manner? Should not the 
greatest and most glorious truths — be deliv- 
ered in an appropriate style ? Do they 
think to exalt religious truth, in the eyes ot 
the well-informed, by communicating it ii 
a way that is not only repulsive to correo 
taste, but slovenly, and absolutely wrong i 
Is it calculated to recommend devotional ex 
ercises to their consideration, by offering uj 
prayer in a language and manner, unbecom 
ing man when addressing man ; and per 
forming the singing, regardless of propel 
time and tune ? Will they present their of 
ferings in a maimed, halt and blind manner 
upon the altar of religion ; while they havo 
it in their power, to provide a way in ac- 
cordance with the subject and object of their 
devotion? Is it well — to despise a good 
style and manner — of elocution and music, 
because we have not the ability, and are too 
indolent to labor for it, to do justice to our. 
selves and others ? What course does true 
wisdom dictate ? 

Varieties. 1. Men — will never feel like 
v:omen, nor women — think, like men. 2. 
In too eager disputation, the truth is often 
lost sight of. 3. "Woman — is not degraded, 
but elevated, by an earnest, daily applica- 
tion — to her domestic concerns. 4. How 
wretched is his condition, who depends for 
his daily support, on the hospitality of others. 
5. An e vil-. speaker — differs from an evil- 
doer, only in opportunity. 6. The use of 
hnowledge is — to communicate to others, that 
they may be the better for it. 7. They who 
deny a God, either in theory, or practice, de 
stroy man's nobility. 

Till ?, .ruth's delirious dream is o'er, \ 
Sanguine with hope, we look before, \ 

The future good to find ; 
In age, when error charms no more, 
For bliss— wc look behind. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



65 



181. Orthography, being to the Elocution- 
ist, especially, a subject of incalcuatle im- 
portance, it is presumed a few observations, 
illustrated by examples, will not be out of 
place. The author introduces an entirety 
new mode of learning the letters, by the use 
of sounds, before the characters are exhib- 
ited ,• also, a new way of spelling, in which 
the words are spelt by giving the different 
gounds of the letters, instead of their names: 
an J finally, a new method of teaching chil- 
drc n to read, by dictation ; instead of by the 
book : i. e. to read without a book, the same 
as we all learn to speak our mother tongue ; 
nnd afterwards, ivith a book: thus making 
the book talk just as we should, when speak- 
ing on the same subject. 

183. Aspirates. There are, according to 
their representatives, 21 aspirate, or breath 
sounds : omitting the duplicates, (or letters 
having the same sound,) there are only elev- 
en ; viz : c, as in cent, clock, ocean ; d, as in 
fae'd ; /, as rn.fi.fe ; h, as in hoe ; p, as in pipe ; 
X, as in mix ,• ch, as in c/iurch ; th, as in thin ; 
and ivh, as in where • whence it appears, by 
actual analysis, that we have sixteen vowel 
sounds, and twenty-eight consonant sounds ; 
making in all forty-four; some authors, 
however, give only thirty -eight. 

183. The common mode of teaching all 
three, is no better policy, (setting every thing 
else aside.) than to go from America to Chi- 
na to get to England : in other words, per- 
fectly ridiculous : and were we not so much 
accudomed to this unnatural and dementing 
proof ss, we should consider it one of the 
most self-evident humbugs, not of the age 
only, but of the world. Examples of the old 
mode: p, (pe,) h, (aytch,) i, (eye,) s, (ess,) 
tis, i, (eye,) c, (see,) k, (kay,) jck, tistck; 
fifteen sounds: of the new; t,i,z, tis, i, k,ik, 
tis-ik ; giving nothing but the five sounds : 
the old: g, (je,) e, (e.) iv, (doubleyou,) git, 
=T> U e a i ( a >) ?t '> (doubleyou,) raw, gew- 
gaw ; eighteen sounds, and not one sound in 
spelling is found in the word after it is spell : 
the new mode; g, u,g, aw, gfw-gaw, giv- 
ing only the four sounds of the letters, in- 
stead of their names. 

IVotes. I. We never can succeed in accomplishing one 
half of the eloricus purposes of language, so lone as vre apply onr- 
selvcs to what is icriiten, and neglect what is spoken. 2. A new 
field presents itself; and when we shall have entered it, in the 
right place and manner, a new era will dawn upon us, leading us 
more to the cultivation of the living language and the living voice: 
Hie compass and harmony of the best instrument can never be per- 
touching the keys at random, or playing a few simple 
tunes upon it, learr.ed by the ear. 

/ When sailing — on this troubled sea 
/ Of pain, and tears, and agony ; 

Though wildly roar the waves around, 
With restless and repeated sound, 
'Tis sweet — to think, that on our eyes, 
A lovelur clime — shall yet arise ; 
That xv z sht .1 wake — from sorroic's dream, 
Beside a pu\ ) — and living stream. 
BRONSON *J 



Proverbs. 1. Estimate persons nore by 
tieir hearts, than by their heads. 2. A. people 
who have no amusements, have no mannen. 3. 
Jill are not saints, who gc to church; all is not 
gold that glitters. 4. Jldvice — is soldom welcome, 
those who need it most, generally like it least. 
5. Do not spend your words to no purpose ; but 
come to the facts. 6. Great things — cannot be 
accomplished without proper means. 7. We reap 
the consequences of our actions— both here, and 
hereafter. 8. God gives to all, the poicer of be- 
coming what they ought to be. 9. Infringe on 
no one's rights. 10. If we are determined to shc- 
ceed, we shall succeed. 11. Better do well, than 
say well. 12. Better be happy tl/an rich. 

Anecdote. If men would confine their 
conversation to such subjects as they under- 
stand, how much better it would be for both 
speaker and hearer. Ilally, the great ma- 
thematician, dabbled not a little in infidelity; 
he was rather too fosd of introducing this 
subject in his social intercourse ; and once, 
when he had descanted somewhat freely on 
it, in the presence of his friend, Sir lsaae 
Newton, the latter cut him short with this 
observation. " I always attend to you, Dr. 
Hally, wiih the greatest deference, when 
you do us the honor to converse on astro- 
nomy, or the mathematics ; because, these 
are subjects that you have industriously in- 
vestigated, and which you well understand : 
but religion — is a subject on which I hear 
you with great pain; for this is a subject 
which you have not seriously examined, and 
do not understand ; you despise it. because 
you have not studied it ; and you will not 
study it, because you despise it. 

Laconics. In the scale of pleasure, the 
lowest are sensual delights, which are suc- 
ceeded by the more enlarged views and gav 
portraitures of a lively imagination ; and 
these give way to the sublimer pleasures of 
reason, which discover the causes and de- 
signs, the form, connection, and symmetry 
of things, and fill the mind with the contem- 
plation of intellectual beauty, order, and 
truth. 

Varieties. 1. The greatest learning — is 
to be seen in the greatest simplicity. 2 
Prefer the happiness and independence of a 
private station, to the trouble and vexation 
of a public one. 3. It is very foolish — for 
any one, to suppose, that he excels all others 
— in understanding. 4. Never take the 
humble, nor the proud, at their own valu- 
ation ; the estimate of the former — is too 
little, and that of the latter — too much. 5. 
Every order of good— is found by an older 
of truth, agreeing with it. C. As there is 
much to enjoy in the world, so is there much 
to endure ; and wise are thev. who enjoy 
gratefully, and endure patiently. 7. What 
is the meaning of the expression, in the first 
chapter of Genesis. — " Let us make man, 
in our image, and after our likeness V 
All farewells— should be sudden, when forever , 
Else, they make an eternity — of moments, — 
And clog the last— sad sands of life— with tears 



66 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



184. In teaching spelling to children, ex- 
ercise them on the forty-lour sounds of the 
letters i then in speaking in concert, after the 
preceptor, and also individually, interspers- 
ing the exercises with analyzing words, by 
giving the various sounds of which they are 
composed. At first, let them give each sound 
in a syllable by itself, (after you t) then let 
them give all the sounds in a syllable be- 
fore pronouncing it; and finally, let them 
give all the sounds in a word, and then pro- 
nounce it: thus, there are three modes of 
spelling by ear; easy, difficult, and more dif- 
cult. Those, however, taught in the old way, 
must expect that their younger pupils, espe- 
cially, will soon get ahead of them ; unless 
they apply themselves very closely to their 
work. 

185. The second division of the Conso- 
nants is into simple, and compouxi) ; or 
single and double : of the former, there are 
twenty, including the duplicates : viz : c, in 
city; c, cab; d, do; d, pip'd; /, fifty; g, 
gull ; h, hope ; 7c, make ; I, bill ; ra, mile ; n, 
no ; p, pop ; q, quote ; r, corn ; s, see ; t, 
tune; ch, chyle; gh, tough; gh, ghastly; 
and ph, epha: omitting the duplicate repre- 
sentatives, thwe are but eleven ; "viz : c, (cy- 
press;) c, (ac-me;) d, (day;) d, (tripp'd;) 
/, (foe;) g, (give;) I, (lay;) m, (mote;) 
n, ( nine ; ) p, ( passed ; ) r, ( more : ) com- 
pare, and see. 

18G. Origin of Language. Plato says, 
that language — is of Divine institution ; that 
human reason, from a defect in the knowl- 
edge of natures and qualities, which are in- 
dicated by names, could not determine the 
cog-reom-i-na of things. He also maintains, 
that names are the vehicles of substances .• 
that a fixed analogy, or correspondence, ex- 
ists between the name and thing ; that lan- 
guage, therefore, is not arbitrary in its ori- 
gin, but fixed by the laws of analogy ; and 
that God alone, who knows the nature of 
thing-s, originally imposed names, strictly 
expressive of their qualities. Zeno, Cle-a«- 
thes, Chry-sip-pus, and others, were of the 
same opinion. 

Notes. 1. This work is not designed to exnibit the whole 
subject of Oratory ; which is as boundless and profound as are the 
Vioughts and feeling* of the human mind ; but to present in a p!ain 
and familiar form, the edsentiab of this God-like art ; in the hopes 
of being useful in this day and generation. In the course of anoth- 
er twelve years, there may be a nearer approach to truth and na- 
Iwe. 2. Observe the difference between the sounds, heard in spel- 
ling the following words, by the names of the letters, and those 
tounds, beard in the words after being spelt : a,-g,-e ; if the 
sounds heard in calling the letters by name, are pronounced, the 
word is ay-je-ec; i,-s, in like manner, spell eye-ess; c,-o,-r,-n, 
•pell, see o-ar-en ; oo,-z,-e, spell doub-Zc-o-ze-ce ; a,-Z,-m-,-s, spell, 
■yel -em-ess ; o,-n, spell— ovj-en ; i:c. 3. The common arrangc- 
aaent of words in columns, without meamner, seems at variance 
with common sense ; but thii mode is perfectly mathematical, as 
well as philosophical, ar:i of course, in accordance with nature, 
seience, and thes*nj»ture of mind. 4. The proper formation of 
words, o«t of klteii. or.-oundt, is word-making. 5. Abcdari-ans 
should fiTst be tarigin. it:e sounds of letters, and then their uses, and 



then their shapes, and names, ios-cther with their uses; the «ms» 
course should be pursued in teaching music, the ca.; alwirt 
predominating ; and then there will be case, grace, and powet 
combined, 

Proverbs. 1. Virtue— grows under every 
weight imposed on it. 2. He, who envies the 
lot of another, must be discontented with his 
own. 3. When fortune fails us, the supposed 
friends of our prosperous days — vanish. 4. The 
love of ruling— is the most powerful affection of 
the human mind. 5. A quarrelsome man — must 
expect many wounds. G. Many condemn, what 
they do not understand. 7. Property, dishonestly 
acquired, seldom descends to the third genera- 
tion. 3. He, who has well begun, has half <kn« 
his task. 9. The difference between hypocrisy 
and sincerity— is infinite. 10. When our atten- 
tion is directed to two objects, we rarely succeed 
in either. 11. Itecompence every one for his la- 
bor. 12. Zealously pursue the right path. 

Anecdote. Patience. The priest of a 
certain village, observing a man, (who had 
just lost his wife.) very much oppressed 
with grief, told him, — " he must have Pa- 
tience ;" whereupon, the mourner replied, 
" I have been trying her sir, but she will 
not consent to have me." 

The range of knowledge- is divided 
into three classes, corresponding- to the scien- 
tific, rational and ajfecluous faculties of man 
The first, is knowledge of the outward 
creation, — involving every thing material, 
— all that is addressed to our five senses ; 
the second, is knowledge of human exist- 
ences, as it respects man's spiritual, or im- 
mortal nature : and the third, knowledge of 
the Divine Being, including his nature, and 
laws, and their modes of operation. There 
is a certain point where matter — ends, and 
spirit — begins : i. e. a boundary, where they 
come in contact, where spirit — operates on 
matter : there is a state, where finite spirit- 
ual existences — receive life and light — from 
the Infinite, who is the Lord of all ; that 
Spirit, 

"That warms— in the sun; refreshes— in the breeze; 
Glows— in the stars; and blossoms— in the trees.'" 

The omniscient, omnipotent and omnipresent 
Being, that 

" Lives— through all life, extends thro' all extent, 
Spreads— undivided.— operates— unspent: 
Whose body nature is,— and God — the soul." 

Varieties. 1. Are monopolies — consist- 
ent with republican institutions ? 2. Love 
— often makes the most clever persons act 
like fools, and the most foolish, act like wise 
ones. 3. Patience is the surest remf.'v 
against column y : time, sooner or later, will 
disclose fne truth. 4. The fickleness of 
fortune — is felt all over the world. 5. It is- 
easy to criticise the productions of art, tiio' 
it is difficult to make them. 6. Do not de- 
fer till to-morrow, what ought to be don"! 
to-day. 7. The precepts and truths of the 
word of God, — are the very laws of divine 
order ; and so far as our minds are receptivi 
of them, we are so far in the divine order, 
and the divine order in us, if in a life agree- 
ing wilh them. 

Guard well thy tlwughti;— our thoughts are bean in ' 



PRINCIPLES O*' ELOCUTION 



C7 



187. The method, here recommended, of 
giving the sounds, of spelling, and of teach- 
ing childrf n to read u ithout a book, and then 
with a book, will save three-fourths of the la- 
bor of both teacher and pupil; and, in addi- 
tion to these important considerations, there 
will be an immense amount of time and ex- 
pense saved, and the young prevented from 
contracting the common bad habits of read- 
ing unnaturally; which not only obstructs 
the proper development of body and mind, 
but sows the seeds of sickness and premature 
death. Our motto should be, " cease to do 
tvil, and learn to do well." 

188. Modes of Spelling. In the old, or 
common mode of spelling, there are many 
more sounds introduced, than the words con- 
tain : this always perplexes new beginners, 
whose ear — has had much more practice, in 
reference to language, than their eye. The 
great difficulty seems to be — to dispose of the 
parts, which amount to more than the whole : 
for, in philosophy, it is an acknowledged 
principle, that the parts — are only equal to 
the whole. Hence, spelling by sounds of 
letters, instead of by names is vastly prefera- 
ble : the former being perfectly philosophical, 
involving orderly, analysis and synthesis, and 
it is also mathematical, because the parts — 
are just equal to the whole : while the latter 
mode is the very reverse of all this ; and in- 
stead of aiding, essentially, in the develop- 
ment of body and mind, tends directly to 
prevent both. 

189. Of the compound, or diphthongal and 
triphthongal consonants, we have twenty- 
three ; viz : c, (z,) discern ; c, (sh,) social ; /, 
(v,) thereo/,- g*, (dg,) gibe; g, (zh,) badinage ; 
/, (dg.) judge ; n, (ng.) bank ; r, (burr'd,) 
trill ; 5, (z.) was ; s, (sh,) sure ; s, (zh,) leisure ; 
t, (sh,) ra/ional ; v, vivacity ; w, wist ; x, (ks.) 
ox; x, (z.) Xenia; y, ?/outh; z, zigzag; ch, 
(tch.) such,- ch, (sh,) cAagrin ; ph, (v,) neph- 
ew ; th, thick. ; th, tho> ; wh, why : deduct- 
ing the duplicates, we have but hoelve ,- c, 
(z,) c, (sh,)/, (v,) g, (zh,) n, (ng,) r, (trill'd,) 
x, (ks,) x, (gz,) ch, (tch,) th, (think,) th, 
(that,) and wh, (when:) let them be exem- 
plified. 

190. It has previously been remarked, 
that, strictly speaking, a, in far, is the only 
natural vowel sound in our language ; and 
that, the other fifteen are modifications of it ; 
also, that on the same principle, the aspirate, 
or breath sound, heard in pronouncing the 
sound of h, (huh, in a whisper,) is the mate- 
rial, out of which all sounds are made; for 
it is by condensing the breath, in the larynx, 
through the agency of the vocal chords, that 
the voice sound, of grave a is made ; and, by 
the peculiar modification, at certain points 
of interception, that any aspirate consonant 
•ound is produced ; hence, it may be said, 



that a, in far, is the original element of all 
the vowel and vocal consonant sounds, and 
the aspirate h, is *he original element, out 
which all the aspirate consonant sounds are 
made, as well as the vocal sounds ; thus, that 
which the letter h represents, seems to in- 
volve something of infinity in variety, so 
far a3 sounds, and their corresponding affec- 
tions are concerned ; for breath — is air : and 
without air, there can be no sound. Why 
was the letter h, added to the names of Abravn 
and Sarai ? 

Proverbs. 1. He, who reckons without hia 
host, must reckon again. 2. When we despise 
danger, it often overtakes us the sooner. 3. 
They, who cross the ocean, may change climate, 
but their minds are still the same. 4. The cor- 
ruption, or perversion of the best things — pro- 
duces the worst. 5. We must not judge of persona 
by their clothing, or by the sanctity of their ap- 
pearance. 6. If we indulge our passions, they 
will daily become more violent. 7. Light grief- 
may find utterance ; but deeper sorrow can find 
none. 8. The difference is great — between words 
and deeds. 9. Poverty — wants mahy things; 
avarice — every thing. 10. Let us avoid having 
too many trows in the fire. 11. Faithfully per- 
form every duty, small and great 12. Govern 
your thoughts, when alone, and your tongue, 
when in company. 13. Ill got,— ill spent. 

Anecdote. Finishing our Studies. Sev- 
eral young physicians were conversing, in 
the hearing of Dr. Rush, and one of thent 
observed, " When I have finished my stu- 
dies," " When you have finished your 

studies /" said the doctor, abruptly ; " why, 
you must be a happy man, to have fi?iished 
them so young : I do not expect to finish 
mine while I H»e." 

Laconics. The kindnesses, which most 
men receive from others, are like traces 
drawn in the sand. The breath of every 
passion sweeps them "away, and they are re- 
membered no more. But injuries are like 
i?iscriptions on monuments of brass, or pil- 
lars of marble, which endure, unimpaired, 
the revolutions of time. 

Varieties. 1 . We rarely regret — having 
spoken too little ; but often — of saying too 
much. 2. Which is the more extensively 
useful, — fire, or water ? 3. A speaker, who 
expresses himself with fluency and discre- 
tion, will always have attentive li'*eners. 
4. The spirit of party, sometimes leads even 
the greatest men — to descend to the mean- 
nessof the vulgar. 5. Without virtue, hap- 
piness — can never be rtal, or permanent. 
6. When we are convinced that our opinions 
are erroneous, it is always right to acknow- 
ledge it, and exchange them for truths. 7, 
Every love — contains its own truth. 
Serve God before the world ! let him not go, 
Until thou hast a blessing ; then, resign 
The whole unto him, and remember who 
Prevailed by icrestling — ere the sun did shine 
Pour oil upon the stones, weep for thy sin, 
Then journey on, and have an eye to Aea*#». 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCLTIOtf. 



191. Here a new field is open for the clas- 
cification of our letters, involving the struc- 
ture of all languages, and presenting us 
with an infinite variety, terminating in tmir 
t>/, — all languages being merely dialects of 
the original one ; hut in this work, nothing- 
more is attempted, than an abridgment of 
the subject As every effect must have an 
adequate cause, and as in material things, 
such as we see, hear, taste, smell, and feel, 
there can be no primary, but only secondary 
causes, we must look to the mind for the 
feelings and thoughts, that have given rise to 
all the jyeculiarities and modifications of lan- 
guage; being assured, that in the original 
language, each state of the will and the un- 
derstanding, had its external sign, as a medi- 
um of manifestation. 

193. Uses of Spelling. The object of spel- 
ling, in the manner here recommended, is 
two-fold- ; to spell by sound, in order to be 
able to distinguish the sounds, of which 
words are composed, and to pronounce 
them correctly : thus developing and train- 
ing the voice and ear to the highest pitch 
of perfection. The use of spelling by the 
names of letters is, to make us acquain- 
ted with them, and the order in which they 
are placed in the ivords, so as to be able, not 
only to read, but to write the language: 
hence, we must become acquainted with both 
our spoken and written language, if we 
would avail ourselves of their wonderful ca- 
pabilities, and the treasures of which they 
rire possessed. 

1 93. In partially applying this doctrine, 
we may say, B, (bib,) represents a gut feral 
labial sound; 1st. c, (cent.) a dental aspi- 
rate: 2d. c, (clock,) a gutteral aspirate: 3d. 
c, (sacrifice,) a dental vocal consonant : 4th. 
c, (ocean,) a dental aspirate : Istf, (if.) a sub- 
labial and super-dental aspirate : 2df, (of,) a 
sub-labial super-dental, vocal: 1st g, (gem,) 
a posterior lingual dental vocal, terminating 
in an aspirate; 2d g, (go,) a glottal vocal 
consonant: 3d g, (rouge,) a. vocal dental as- 
pirate: h, a pure aspirate, with open mouth 
and throat; /, a lingual dental; and so onto 
the en 'I of our sounds, of analysis and syn- 
thesis, of which a volume might be written ; 
and although the writer has practiced on 
them many thousands of times, he never has 
done it once, without learning something 
new. 

Notes. 1. Don't forjet to understand and master every 
H.ir.» tbat rditjt to the subject of study and practice: the only 
royal highway to rreth is the strai^ltt way. 2. Become as famil^r 
vntli the loundsof our language as you are with the alphattet A. 
A* yon proceed, acnuire m'jw *o»e and grace in reai*vig a&d 
ipeakio*. 

An honest man—is still an unmoved r^Jc, 
Wash'd whiter, but not shaken — wi'\ the shock; 
Whose heart — conceives no sin^Ur device ; 
Featle8S~-he p' ays with flames, and treads on ice. 



Proverbs. 1. Do as much good .is you can 
and make Irat little noi.-ie about it. 2. The Eible* 
is a book oflaws, to show us wnal : s right, and 
what is wrong. 3. What maintains one vice, 
would bring up two children. 4. A little wrong 
— clone to another, is a great wrong done to our- 
selves. 5. Sermons— should be steeped in the 
heart — before they are delivered. 6. A life of 
attractive industry is always a happy one. 7. 
Drive your business before you, and it will go 
easily. 8. Good fences — make good neighbors. 
9. Pride wishes not to owe; self-love — wishes not 
to pay. 10. The rotten apple injures its compan- 
ion- 11. Make a virtue of necessity. 12. You 
can't make an auger hol<e with a gimblet. 

Anecdote Mathematical Honor. A sit, 
dent — of a certain college, gave his fellow 
student the lie ; and a challenge followed. 
The mathematical tuto? — heard of the diffi- 
culty, and sent for the young man that gave 
the challenge, who insisted, that he must 
fight — to shield his honor. " Why,'''' said 
the tutor? " Eecause he gave me the lie." 1 
" Very well ; let him prove it : if he prove 
it, — yo'idtd lie : but if/he does not prove it, 
then he lies. Why should you shoot one 
another? Will that make a tic — anymore 
honor nbl.p V 

Ciceko savs, ;he poet — is born such ; the 
orator is made such. But reading books of 
rhetoric, and eloquent extracts — choice mor- 
sels of poetry and eloquence — will nevei 
make one an orator : these are only the ef- 
fects of oratory. The cause of eloquence 
is to be sought lor, only in the depths of the 
human mind — the true philosophy of man, and 
the practice of unadulterated goodness and 
truth. You must/eeZ rightly, think wisely, 
and act accordingly : then gracefulness of 
s-tyle and eloquence will fit you; otherwise, 
you will be like the ass, clothed with the 
lion's skin. Accomplishment should not be 
an end, but a means. Seek, then, for the 
philosophy of oratory, where it is to be found, 
in the study ot geometry, language, physics, 
theology, and the human mind profound, if 
you would attain that suavity of graceful 
periods, engaging looks and gestures, which 
steal from men their hearts, and reason, and 
make them, for the time being, your willing 
captives. 

Varieties. 1. Is there any lme of de 
marcation between temperance and ^tem- 
perance ? 2. We rarely repent — of eating 
too little ; but often — of eating too much. 

3. Truth — is clothed in white ; but a lie — 
comes forth in all the colors of a rainbow. 

4. St. Augustin says, "Love God ; and then 
do what you wish." 5. We must not do 
<ivil, that good may come of it ; the means — ■ 
must answer, and correspond to — the end. 
6. Assumed qualities — may catch the fancy 
of some, but we must possess those that are 
good, to fix the heart. 7. When a thing ip 
doubtful, refer it to the Word in sincerity ; if 
it is not clear to you, let it alone, for the pro 
sent, at least, till it is made so. 

Mini, not money— makes tfie nan 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



194. Accent- -means either stress, or 
quantity of voice, on a certain letter, or let- 
ters in a word : it is made by concentrating 
the voice, on that particular place in the 
word, heavy, at first, then gliding into silence. 
There are two ways of making it ; first, 
by stress, when it occurs on short vowels , 
as, mfc-stand : secondly, by avxis titx, when 
it occurs on long ones ; as, o-ver : i. e. when 
the word is short, we pronounce it with 
fohce; and when it is Ion g, with quanti- 
ty, and a little force too : thus, what we lack 
m length of sound, we make up by stress, or 
force, according to circumstances. These en- 
gravings present to the eye an idea of accent 
by stress, or a concentration of voice, with 
more or less abruptness. 



The first — indicates that the accented vow- 
el is near the beginning of the word; as in 
ac-cent, em-pha-sis, m-dus-try, o?i-ward, up- 
ward : the second, that it is at, or near the 
end: as in ap-pre-A€mZ,su-per-in-/mrZ, in-di- 
vis-i-6iZ-i-ty. In music, the first represents 
the diminish ,• the second — the swell of the 
voice. 

195. The first use of accent — is to convert 
letters, or syllables — into words, expressive 
of our ideas ; i. e. to fasten the letters to- 
gether, so as to make a word-medium for 
manifesting oxn feelings and thoughts: and 
the second use is — to aid us in acquiring a 
distinct articulation, and melody of speech, 
and song. Exs. 1. Accent bt stress of 
voice. He am-pli-fies his ad-t-er-tise-ment, 
di-ram-ish-es its ira-pe-tus, and op-e-rates on 
the tiZ-ti-mates. 2. The ac-cu-ra-cy of the 
eer-e-mo-ny is ^g-u-ra-tive of the cora-pe- 
ten-cy of his wp-right-ness : 3. The cat-e- 
pil-lar for-gets the no-bil-i-ty of or-a-to-ry 
un-jusf-ly; 4. The math-e-wGrZ-ics are su- 
per-in-^rt^-ed with af-fa-fciZ-i-ty, cor-res- 
pond-ent to in-s/ruc-tions. 

Notes. 1. Observe, there are but FIVE SHORT vowels in 
our language ; the examples above contain illustrations of all of 
them, in their alphabetical order ; they are also found in these 
words — at, et, it, ot, ut ; and to give them with purity, make as 
though you were going to pronounce the whole word, but leave off 
»t the t. 2. This is a very important point in our subject; if you 
feil in understanding accent, you cannot succeed in emphasis. 

Anecdote. Holding One's Own. A very 
fat man was one day met by a person whom 
he owed, and accosted with — " How do you 
do V Mr. Adipose replied, " Pretty well : 
I hold my own ;" — "and mine too, to my 
torrmo," — rejoined the creditor. 
Hail, to thee, filial love, source of delight, 
Of everlasting joy ! Heaven's grace supreme 
Shines in the duteous homage, of a child I 
Religion, manifested, stands aloft, 
Superior — to the storms of wayward fate. 
When children — suffer in a parent's cause, 
And glory — in the lovely sacrifice, 
'T*s heavenly inspiration fills the breast — 
A.ns angels — waft their incense to the skies. 



196. Some persons may wish for more 
specific directions, as to the method of bring- 
ing the lower muscles into use, for producing 
sounds, and breathing : the following will 
suffice. Take the proper positwn, as above 
recommended, and place the hands on the 
hips, with the thumbs on the small of the 
back, and the fingers on the abdominal mus- 
cles before ; grasp them tightly ; i. e. try to 
press in the abdomen, and, at the same time, 
to burst off" the hands, by an internal effort, 
in the use of the muscles to produce the vow- 
el sounds of the following words, at, et, it, ot, 
ut; then leave off the t, giving the vowels 
the same sound as before : or imagine that 
you have a belt tied around you, just above 
the hip bones, and make such an effort as 
would be required to burst it off; do the 
same in breaihing, persevere, and you will 
succeed : but do not make too much effort. 

Proverbs. 1. A man under the influence 

of angei is beside himself. 2. Poverty, with 

honesty, is preferable to riches, acquired by dis- 
honest means. 3. The wolf casts his hair, but 
never changes his ferocious disposition. 4. To 
wicked persons— the virtue of others — is always a 
subject of envy. 5. Flies — cannot enter a mouth 
that is shut. 6. No plea of expediency — should 
reconcile us to the commission of a base act. 7. 
Power, unjustly obtained, is of short duration. 

8. Every mad-man — believes all other men mad. 

9. The avaricious man— is kind to none ; but least 
kind to himself. 10. The beginning of knowledge 
— is the fear of God. 11. Of all poverty, that of 
the mind — is the most deplorable. 12. He only is 
powerful, who governs himself. 

Varieties. 1. What was it — that made 
man miserable, and what — alone can make 
him happy ? 2. Diffidence — is the mother of 
safety; while self-confidence — often involves 
us in serious difficulties. 3. He is not rich, 
who has much, but he who has enough, and 
is contented. 4. It is absurd — for parents to 
preach sobriety to their children, and yet in- 
dulge in all kinds of excess. 5. Nature— 
never says, what wisdom contradicts ; for 
they are always in harmony. 6. Save some- 
thing — against a day of trouble. 7. With 
such as repent, and turn from their evils, 
aud surrender their wills to the Lord's will, 
all things they ever saw, knew, or expe- 
rienced, shall be made, in some way or 
other, to serve for good. 

I do remember an apothecary, — 
And hereabouts he dwells, — whom late I noted 
In tatter'd weeds, wilh everwhelming brows, 
Culling of simples ; meagre were his looks, 
And in his needy shop— a. tortoise hung. 
Sharp misery — had worn him to the bones: 
An alligator stufFd, and other skins 
Of ill-shap'd fishes ; and about his shelves 
A beggarly account of empty boxes, 
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty setdt 
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of rosea, 
Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show. 



•o 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION 



197. Accent —is made, secondly, by 
O.UAXT1TJ: : or prolongation of .sound, with 
expulsive force, on long accented vowels; 
which may be represented either by this en- 
graving indicative of a 
continuous equal moveme nt of th e voice; or, 

by this one, — —ffia^JBW" 

which shows the swell, continuous and di- 
minish in combination ; or, the unequal con- 
tinuous. Exs. 1. The a-gent, with a?--dent 
«w>-ful e-go-tism, i-dol-i-zed the o-di-ous oo-zy 
M-ni-form, which was fruit-fill in oi-li-ness, 
from the ou-ter-mosts. 2. The base-merit of 
the ar-mo-ry, awk- ward-ly e-qual to the i-ro- 
ny of the o-li-o, was, to the moon-shine of the 
u-ni-verse, as an un-ob-Zm-sive moi-e-ty of a 
voun-cet-box. 

198. Prolongation of Soimd. Let the pu- 
pil take a lesson of the ferryman. A travel- 
er arrives at the brink of a wide river, 
which he wishes to cross; one ferry-man is 
on the other side, and, by chance, one is on 
this side: the traveler halloos, in the com- 
mon speaking voice, using principally the 
cliest ; of course his voice soon becomes dis- 
sipated. He is informed that his call cannot 
be heard : listen to me, says this son of na- 
ture; "O ver, ver, 

ver:" making each accented vowel two sec- 
onds long: try it and see,- extending your 
f?/eand mind at a distance; which will aid 
the prolongation. 

199. In exercising on accent, for a time 
at least, go to extremes, and make the ac- 
cented vowels as prominent to the ear, as 
the following ones are to the eye ; a-bAse- 
ment, im-pE-ri-ous, I-dol-ize, O-ver-throw, 
beaU-fi-ful, Oil-mill, OU-ter-most. Ex. 
I. The Zw-na-tic a-bode at the ca-Z/*e-dral, 
till the an-nun-ewj-tion, that the an-te-di- 
Zw-vi-ans — had con-vey'd the hy-dro-^Zio-bia 
to Di-o-na of the E-p/ie-sians. 2. The pa- 
triots and 7«a-trons of the rev-o-Zw-tion, by 
iheir lmr-wio-ni-ous co-op-e-ra-tion, de- 
thron'd the ty-rants that were ru-Ymg our 
peo-ple with an un-/*o-ly rod of i-ron. 

Anecdote. Raising Bent. " Sir, I in- 
tend to raise your rent,' 1 '' — said a land-holder 
— to one of his tenants : to which he replied. 
— " I am very much obliged to you, — for I 
cannot raise it myself'' 

Notes. 1. As vowels are either long 0T short, different de- 
crees of length do not affect any one of the long ones, so far as 
the quality of the s'mnd is concerned ; the e in de-vise, and the o, 
in dn-raain— are the same as to length, (not force.) as they are in 
df-cent, dotard ; thus we have Ion? ot-cented vowels, and long 
unaccented ones. 2. We make accent hy quantity, when the 
irciotod vowels are long, and hy st. 'ss when they are rhori. 3. 
Ti«c ihort vowels are of the same length, hut not so the long ncss. 
" Biased isThe man, 
Who hears the voice of nature; who, retired 
Frombustling life, can feel thegladdening beam, • 
The hope, that breathes of Paradise. Thy decdi, , 
Sweet Peace, are music— to the exulting mind ; 
Thy prayer, iike incense— wafted on the gale 
Ofrfjrning spreads aml/ro*ia, as the cloud 
Of spicy iwxsetf— perfumes the whispering breeze, 
Tfcat scents Jkabia's wild.* 



Proverbs. 1. Men of limited attainnientt- 
generally condemn every thing they cannot 
comprehend. 2. Wit — should flow spontaneously; 
it cannot be produced by study. 3. Buoyancy of 
spirit— greatly diminishes the pressuie of misfor- 
tune. 4. The surest method of being deceived ia 
— to consider ourselves — more cunning than 
others. 5. Envious persons— always view, with 
an evil eye, the prosperity of others. 6. It io a 
proof of mediocrity of intellect— to be addicted to 
itory-telling. 7. When we give way to passion, 
we do every thing amiss. 8. Truth — needs no 
disguise, nor does she want embellishment. 9. A 
mind diseased — cannot bear any thing harsh. 
10. Never utter what is false, nor hesitate to 
speak what is true. 11. Trifles— often discover 
a character — more than actions of importance. 
12. The Bible— is a perfect body of divinity. 

Body and Mind. The science of hu- 
man nature — is valuable, as an introduction 
to the science of the Divine nature; for 
man — was made " in the image, and after 
the likeness, " of his Maker : a knowledge 
of the former — facilitates that of the latter ; 
and to know, revere, and humbly adore, is 
the first duty of man. To obtain just and 
impartial views of human nature, we must 
not disconnect the object of our study, and 
consider the mind, body, and actions, each 
by itself, but the whaleman together ; which 
may be contemplated under two different 
aspects, — of spirit and of matter ; on the 
body — shines the sun of nature, and on the 
mind — that better light, which is the true 
light: here, is a real man, having essence, 
form, and use, which is clad in the habili- 
ments of beauty, and majesty; meeting us 
now, and which will meet us hereafter, as a 
purely spiritual being, in every possible 
stage of his future existence. 

Varieties. 1. Can we be a friend, and 
an enemy — at the same time? 2. Every ona 
should be considered innocent, till he is 
proved guilty. 3. It is not sufficient that you 
are heard, you must be heard with pleasure. 
4. There is a great difference between poetry 
and rhymetry ; the former grovjs, the latter 
— is made. 5. If your money is your God, 
it will plague you like the Devil. 6. Order 
— is one, in revelation, man, creation, and 
the universe; each — respects the other, and 
is a resemblance of it. 
Man— is dear to man ; the poorest poor 
Long for some momenta, in a weary life, 
When they can 7«!ozo,and/ec/, that they have bees 
Themselves — the fathers, and the dealers out 
Of some small blessings — have been kind to such 
As needed kindness ; — for this single cause, 
That we have all of us — a human heart. 

Such pleasure — is to one kind being known, 
My neighbor, when, with punctual care, each wee%. 
Duly as Friday comes, though press'd henself 
By her own wants, she, from her store of meai. 
Takes one unsparing handful for the scrip 
Of this old mendicant ; and, from her door, 
Returning with exhilarated heart, 
Sits hy her fire, and builds her hopes U htaven 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



71 



200. Accent. The intentions of the 
mind — are manifested by the accent of the 
voice, as are those of a tailor, when he makes 
a gentleman's coat; or of a mantuamaker, 
when she makes a ladu^ gown ; there is a 
meaning, an end, in™/. The three great 
categories of knowledge are end, cause and 
effect ; reflection and experience will convince 
those who would be toise,that the end or pur- 
pose, is theirs/ thing, — the cause or medium, 
the second, and the effect, or ultimation of 
the co-operation of end and cause, the third 
thing. Now the feeling, or affection, is the 
jirst thing ; the thought — is the second thing : 
and the action — the third thing : the affection 
and the vowel sound are connected, the 
thought and the consonant, and all become 
manifest, when the word is properly made, 
by the application of accent, and enuncia- 
tion. 

201. Now, as the affectuous part of the 
mind operates, especially, on those lower 
nerves and muscles, that are combined to 
produce thevowel sounds, and the intellectual 
part of the mind co-operates with the lungs, 
to form the consonant sounds, and the two 
unite — to make the word, by the use of the 
accent, through the agency of which, feelings 
and thoughts are conveyed, — it will be per- 
ceived, that whenever there is a change of the 
seat of accent, there may be a corresponding 
change of the meaning of the word: or 
rather, a change of feeling produces a change 
of thought, and the two produce a correspon- 
ding change in the seat of accent : as — au- 
gust, a.n-gust ; prod-uce, -pro-duce ; gal- 
lant, gaU-lant. 

202. Change of the scat of accent accord- 
ing to sense. They bom-bard the town, with 
oom-bards, and cc-ment their cannon with 
cem-ent, and call upon their colleagues to 
coVleague together, col- led their soldiers, and 
offer up their collects. He com-ments upon 
their com-ments, while they com-merce about 
the com-merce, and com-mon-p/ace their com- 
mon-place business. The corn-pact was en- 
tered into in a corn-pact manner, while the 
soldiers corn-plot together in a corn-plot, and 
corn-port themselves with a becoming com- 
port. The farmer corn-posts his fields with 
excellent corn-post, and out of the corn-pound 
he corn-pounds a fruitful soil ; which, when 
CQm-press'd, makes a very fine corn-press for 
the srain. 

My birthday .' what a different sound 
That word had — in my youthful ears ! 
And how, each time — the day came round, 
less, and less white — its mark appears ! 
When first — our scanty years are told, 
It seems like pastime — to grow old. 
And as youth~<ounts the shining links, 
That time — around him binds so fast, 
Pleased with the task, he little thin'cs, 
How hard that chain vill press — at last. 



Anecdote. When Lieutenant Brien 
was blown up, in the Edgar, and thn svnon 
board the Admiral, all black and wet, he 
said to the commander, with pleasantry. " 1 
hope sir, you will excuse my dirty appear 
ance ; for I left the ship in so great a hurry, 
that I had not time to change my dress.'''' 

Proverbs. 1. Every thing great— is com- 
posed of minute particles. 2. Nothing — bears a 
stronger resemblance to a mad-man than a drun- 
kard. 3. Pleasure, purchased by yam, is alwaya 
injurious. 4. The act is to be judged of, by the 
intention of the person, who does it. 5. Theory, 
without practice, however plausible, «eldoni 
tends to a successful issue. G. Reflect well, be- 
fore you say yes, or no. 7. Be cautious — in giv- 
ing advice, and consider — before you follow it. 
8. A man, fond of disputing, will, in time, hava 
few friends to dispute with. 9. Young peop'e 
are apt to think themselves wise enough ; a? 
drunkards — think themselves sober enough. 10. 
Injustice — cannot exist without agents. 11. No 
great loss, but some small gain. 12. No smoke, 
without some fire. 

Reading Discourses. As the reading 
of written discourses is so common, it is very 
desirable, that the speaker should unite the 
advantages of written, or printed composi- 
tion, with extemporaneous speaking ; which 
can be done by mastering the principles of 
this system ; then, though the essay be a 
month, or a year old, the orator may give it 
all the appearance and freshness of oral dis- 
course. Many public men have injured 
their health by slavishly reading their dis- 
courses, instead of speaking them ; there 
being such an inseparable connection be- 
tween thinking and breathing, that the effort 
to read, especially from a manuscript, tends 
to the use of the thorax, or lungs. If we 
were taught to read by ear, instead of by 
sight, there would be no difficulty in this 
exercise : there must be a revolution — in 
regard to teaching and learning this impor- 
tant art, or sad will continue to be the con- 
sequences. 

Varieties. 1. Were the Texians right, 
in rebelling against Mexico? 2. If woman 
taught the philosophy of love, who would 
not learn? 3. Do not yield to misfortunes; 
but resist them, with unceasing firmness. 
4. Procrastination — is the thief oitime. 5. 
No one is qualified to command, who hag 
not learned to obey. 6. A laugh — costs too 
much, if purchased at the expense of pro- 
priety. 7. Words, fitly spoken from a life 
oHove, are exceedingly sweet, andprofitable 
to all. 

Beware, ye slaves of vice and infamy, 
Beware — choose not religion's sacred name, 
To sanctify your crimes — your falsehood shield. 
Profane not your Creator'* boundless power, 
Or lest his vengeance— fall upon, and crush ye. 

It is an awful height — of human piide, 
When we dare — robe ourselves in sanctity, 
While all is dark impiety within! 
This, surely, is the aggregate of sin. 
The last— iO' be forgiven— by heaven, or man. 



y 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION 



a 03. The subject of accent, being of pri- 
mary importance, should be dwelt upon, till 
its principles and their application, are per- 
fectly familiar. Remember, it is the principal 
external means, of making words — out of let- 
ters and syllables: comparatively, it is the 
thread with which we make the garments 
for our thoughts, and thus manifest the ob- 
jects which the mind has in view in clothing 
them in different ways, and making them 
alive with feeling. The mental power of ac- 
cent, is in the will, or voluntary principle, 
and the physical force is from the combined 
action of the lower muscles, in connection 
with the diaphragm ; hence, it may be per- 
ceived, that in simply expelling vowel sounds, 
as always insisted upon, we at the same time, 
acquire the power of making the accent ; for 
expulsion — is accent, radical, or stress. If 
you do not master accent, you cannot suc- 
ceed in becoming an elocutionist. 

204. Change of the seat of accent. On 
her e>?-trance, she was en-tranced at being 
cz-cort-ed by a grand es-cort: I essay to 
make an «-say to ex-ile the ett-iles : ex-port 
the <?aj-ports, with-cut ex-tract-lng the ex- 
tracts for the ex-tract-crs : the ab-ject fel-lowe 
ab-ject the gifts, and the absent minded ab- 
sent themselves from the party : he abstracts 
the abstracts and at-frib-ntes the aMri-butes 
1o others: I lay the ac-cent on the ac-cent-ed 
vowel, and at'-fix the cf-hx to the final sylla- 
ble, and make aug-ment in the right place 
and an^-ment the word in Au-%nst, and thus 
make the idea za-gust. 

Notes. 1. Be careful in placing the accent on the right 
irllable : ad-uer-tise-ment, al-Zie*, com-pen-sate, m-qui-ty, de-co-rus, 
OJ-tho-e-py, ar-is-!oc ra-cy, ac-cep(-a-ble, Ar-e-op-a-gus, ac-m-so- 
r\, iip-riiht ly: for i f you place the accent on the wrong vowel, 
you partially pervert the meaning, or renJer it ridiculous : as, I 
ta« an au-zust spectacle in August. 2. In sinzins;, accent isal- 
waj3 made by ilress: and the first note of each full measure ac- 
cc-nt-ed. 

Laconics. Labor is honorable in all. from 
the king on the throne to the mendicant in 
the street ; and let him or her, who is a- 
shamed to toil for themselves, or the benefit 
of their race, be more ashamed to consume 
the industry and labor of others, for which 
they do not'render an equivalent. 

The rose had been washed, just washed in a shower, 

Which Mary— to Anna — conveyed ; 
The plentiful moisture — encumbered theflnwsr, 

And weighrd •$•* u its beautiful hold. 
The cup ««» Ml filled, and the leaves were all wet, 

And it teemed, to zjancifulriew, 
To weep for the buds— it had left with regret, 

On the flourishing bush — where it grew. 
1 hastily seized it, unfit as it was 

Fora uvsegay, so dripping and drowned 
And swinging it rudely, too rudely, alai ! 

I snapped it, — it fell to the ground. 
And such, I exclaimed, is the pitiless part, 

Some act— by the delicate mind, 
Regardless of wringing— and breaking a heart, 

Already to sorrow resigned. 
Thii elegant rose, had I shaken it less, 

Might have bloomed with its owner awhile: 
Awl Voi tear, that is wiped, with a little address, 

Way oe followed, perhap, by a si.-ule. 



Proverbs. 1. Beware o F reading, wit'jout 
thinking of the subject. 2. A man rarely deceives 
another but once. 3. A good paymaster is lord c( 
another man's purse. 4. He is most secure troi t 
danger, who, even when conscious of safety, i« 
on his guard. 5. The pitcher may go often to the 
well, and be broken at last. 6. A good companion, 
makes good company. 7. Let every one choose, 
according to his own fancy, fc. A comparison — is 
no reason. 9. Your looking- glass — will tell you 
what none of your friends will. 10. The human 
heart wants something to be kind to. 11. Many 
hands make light work. 12. Ask your purse - 
what you shall buy. 

Anecdote. Blundering on the Truth. 
An ignorant fellow, who was about to be 
married, resolved to make himself perfect in 
the respo?ises of the marriage service ; but, 
by mistake, he committed the office of bap. 
tism for those of riper years : so, when the 
clergyman asked him, in the church, — 
" Wilt<hou have this woman to thy wedded 
viifeV The bridegroom answered, in a 
very solemn tone ; "I renounce them all. 1 " 
The astonished minister said — " I think you 
are a fool :" — to which he replied, " All this 
I steadfastly believe.' 1 '' 

Analogies. As, in the succession of the 
seasons, each, by the invariable laws of na~ 
ture, affects the productions of what is next 
in course ; so, in human life, every period 
of our age, — according as it is well or ill 
spent, influences the happiness of that which 
is to follow. Virtuous youth — generally 
brings forward accomplished and flourishing 
manhood; and such manhood passes off, 
without uneasiness, into respectable and 
tranquil old age. When nature — is turned 
out of its regular course, disorder takes 
place — in the moral, just as in the vegetaMe 
world. If the spring — put forth no blossom*, 
in summer — there will be no beauty, and in 
the autumn — no fruit. If youth — be trifled 
away without improvement, manhood will be 
contemptible — and old age — miserable. If 
the beginnings of life — have been vanity.— 
its latter end can be no other than vexation 
of spirit. 

Varieties. 1. Is there any such thing as 
time and space, in the world of mind? 2. 
Any book that is worth reading once, is 
worth reading twice 4 3. Most misfortunes 
— may be turned into blessings, by watching 
the tide of affairs. 4. When the wicked are 
in power, innocence and integrity are sure 
to be persecuted. 5. Give people proper 
books, and teach them how to read thetn, 
and they will educate themselves. 6. Un- 
limited powers — should not be trusted in the 
hands of any one. who is not endowed with 
perfection. — more than human. 7. The 
truths of the Bible are the seeds of order ; 
and as is the reception, such will be th« 
produce. 

Faults — in the life, breed errors in the braiitf 
And these, reciprocally, those again : 
The mind, and conduct — mutually imprint, 
And stamp their imajjc — in each other's mint. 



V 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



73 



205. To accomplish the objects in view, 
the development and perfection of the voice 
for reading, speaking and singing, a great 
variety of exercises and examples, are intro- 
duced, containing sense and nonsense ; and 
attention can be given to both kinds, accord- 
ing to their uses. Let it be remembered, that 
the forty-four sounds of the language are the 
fountains, from which are to llow every stream 
of elocution and music : and these are con- 
tinually before us. No one can succeed in 
silently reading, or thinking over the sub- 
jects: practice is the great thing; therefore, 
frequently repeat the sounds, read by vowels, 
spell by sounds, and exercise in accent and 
emphasis, with all the other modifications. 

206. They con-cert a plan to get up a con- 
cert, and as they con-cord the con-cords of the 
notes, they con-crete the con-crete tones with 
such admirable con-duct, as to con-duct the 
whole to the satisfaction of the audience. He 
con-feds the sugar with delicious con-fects, 
although he con-fines his efforts to the con- 
fines of the room ; and without con^zc-ting 
in any serious con- flict, he con-serves the con- 
serves in such a way as to con-sort with his 
con-sort without con-test-ing with any seri- 
ous con-test. I will con-text the con-text, so 
as to con-tract the con-tract-ing in a strong 
con-tract, the con-vent, so as to con-vent its 
inmates, while they con-verse in familiar con- 
verse. 

307. Among the more difficult acquisi- 
tions, is the ability to prolong sounds in 
strongly marked accented and emphatic 
words, involving the kindlier feelings of our 
nature ; to succeed in which, practice single 
long vowel sounds in separate words, and al- 
so in short and long phrases; as a le; 

a re; a 11; ee 1; i le ; o 

Id; oo ze; mu te; pu ss; oi 1; 

ou r ; also, old armed chair ; wheel to the 

right; roll the flames and join the muse; 
glowing hope; praise the lofty dome. 

Notes. 1. The attempt is not made any where, to give a 
f-s/ect notation of the manner in which one is to read ; and «omc 
words are more or less emphatic, that are printed in common 
type ; while certain words, which are not very important as to 
meaning, are printed in italics. 2. Never mind the rough appear- 
mr-.ee of the examples ; but make them smooth in your delivery. 

Anecdote. Self-love. The first consid- 
eration of a knave is — how to help himself ; 
and the second, how to do it with an appear- 
ance of helping others. Dionysius. the ty- 
rant, stripped the statue of Jupiter Olymptis, 
of a robe of massy gold, and substituted a 
cloak of wool, saying — " Gold is too cold in 
winter, and too heavy in the summer — it be- 
hooves us to take care of Jupiter." 

When was public virtue to be found, 

Where private was not 1 

Can he love the whole, 

Who loves no part ? 

He— be a nation's friend, 

Who, ic truth, is the friend of no man there t 
10 



Proverbs. 1. Instead of sayinj "I canHJ say 
"I will." 2. Acquire knowledge that may be 
useful. 3. If possible, remove your own difficul- 
ties. 4. Husband your time, and waste neither 
that, nor your money. 5. Try to exert a good 
influence, wherever you are. 6. A little stone can 
make a great bruise. 7. Unwearied diligence 
the point will gain. 8. Cultivate good domestic 
habits. 9. Some rather reflect truth than practic* 
it. 10. Man is a 7ni-cro-cosm, or little world. 
11. Winter finds what Summer conceals. 12. Tw« 
of a trade seldom agree. 

Important. Let the orator consider him- 
self the connecting link, or medium, between 
the mental and natural world : i. e. that the 
spiritual world is progressing down into the 
material world ; and that all his muscles and 
vocal powers are the proper organs, thro 1 
which it is to flow. Hence, the. necessity of 
developing and training, perfectly, those me- 
diums of communication, that every thing in 
the matter, may tell, effectually, in the man- 
ner. Much, very much depends upon the 
state of his oion mind ; for, accordmg to that 
— will be the influence shed abroad on the 
minds of others. Conceive yourself the rep- 
resentative of a vast concourse of associated 
minds, and be the true representative of your 
constituents. 

Varieties. 1. Are fictitious writings bene' 
ficial? 2. £-go-tism(orself-commendatio)i,) 
is always disgusting, and should be carefully 
avoided. 3. A man cannot call a better phy- 
sician than himself, if he will take all the 
good advice he gives to others. 4. Why is the 
human mind like a garden 1 because you can 
sow what seeds you please in it. 5. Good 
and bad fortune are necessary , to prepare us 
to meet the contingencies of Ife. 6. Be not 
too much afraid of offending others, by telling 
the truth : nor stoop to flattery nor mean' 
ness, to gain their favor. 7. The whole out" 
ward creation, with its every particular and 
movement, is but a theatre and scene of ef- 
fects, brought forth into existence, and mov- 
ed by interior spiritual causes, proper to the 
spiritual world. 

To the curious eye 
A little monitor — presents her page 
Of choice instruction, with her snowy bells — 
The lily nf the vale. She, not affects 
The public walk, nor gaze of mid-day sun: 
She — to no slata or dignity aspires, 
But, silent anc alone, puts on her suit, 
And sheds her lasting per-fnme, but for which 
We had not known— there was a thing— so sweet 
Hid — in the gloomy shade. So, when the blast 
Her sister tribes confounds, and, to the earth 
Stoops their high heads, that vainly were exposed, 
She feels it not, but flourishes anew, 
Still sheltered and secure. And so the storm, 
That makes the huge elm couch, and rends the otm, 
The humble lily spares. A thousand blows, 
That shake the lofty monarcli, on his throne, 
We lesser folks fed not Keen are the pains 
Advancement often brings. To be trturt, 
Be humble ; to be happy, be contact. 



74 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



308. The question is often asked — which 
receives the accent, the vowel or the conso- 
nant .' The reply is, sometimes one, and at 
others, both, when they are connected. In a- 
ble, the accent is all on a ; in wo-ble, the n 
and o receive the accent, but principally the 
0; in presume, the accent is mostly on u; 
and is imparted to s and m, terminating on 
the m. Although this fact is perfectly obvi- 
ous, yet one 6ook that purports to have pass- 
ed through seven editions, insists that vowels 
are never accented. I would ask that author, 
what letter receives the accent of the proper 
name A-i in the Bible, since it has two sylla- 
bles, and yet there are no consonants. Let 
us beware of wrong guides as well as blind 
ones. 

209. Half accented vowel sounds. There 
is an inferior, or half accent, on certain words 
of three or more syllables, which should be 
observed; and, although given distinctly, 
must be kept within the vanish of the accent- 
ed ones. The dem-o-enxr-ic corc-ver-SA-tion 
re-spect-ing the tirk-xa. was fotf-e-ro-GE-ne-us 
to a rfem-on-STRA-tion ; a 7ne£-a-pms-i-cal 
hyp-o-c nox-dria is rec-om-MEX-da-to-ry of su- 
per-a-Bux-dant prod-is xz-i-ty : the w2-com- 
pre-HEN-si-ble jg/en-i-po-TEsr-ti-a-ry is an am- 
pli-n-c A-tion of A*/-dro-pno-bi-a ; the per-pen- 
dic-u-EAR-i-ty of the g-en-er-al-is-si-mo, and 
the raerg-na-xiM-i-ty of thejoAi^-an-THiiop-i- 
cal re-ca-pit-u-L A-tion was c^ar-ac-ter-is-tic 
of the m-cor-rup-ti-siL-i-ty of his in-con- 
siD-er-a-ble-ness. 

SI10. The mere mention of Oratory, reminds 
ua of the early times of Egypt, Greece, and 
Rome ; when there nourished a Le vite, who 
was an important instrument in delivering an 
ancient people from captivity; one of whose 
qualifications for his high office, was, that he 
could "speak well;" — a Demosthenes, the 
magic, music, and witchery of whose ele- 
quence, it is impossible to translate or de- 
scribe ; — a Cicero, whose oratory was copious, 
correct, ornate, and magnificent ; — each of 
whom was pre-eminent in his own style and 
manner, — the Grecian — carrying the citadel 
by storm, and the Roman taking it after a 
regular and most beautifully conducted siege ; 
— of a Peter, and Paul, pleading in the 
cause of Heaven, and holding vast multitudes 
in breathless silence, making even Judges 
tremble in their high places; — of more mod- 
ern times, whose history presents us the name 
of a Chatham, a Burke, and a Fox, in the as- 
sembly ; and those of a Bourdaloue, Mussil- 
lon, Undone, and Whitfield, in the pulpit ; 
also the orators of our own time and land ; 
gome of whom, in many respects, will not 
■uffer by a comparison with any of their il- 
lustrious predecessors. 

Praising— what is lost, 
Makes the ? trnen France — dear. 



Proverbs. 1. Show me &. 'iar, and I win 
show you a thief. 2. The best mode of instruc- 
tion is — to practice what we teach. 3. Vain glo- 
ry blossoms, but never bears. 4. Well to judge, 
depends on well to hear. 5. He who is wicked 
in the country, will be wicked in the town. 6. 
He who preaches war, is the devWs chaplain. 
7. You will never have a friend, if you must 
have one without failings. 8. A bad man in of- 
fice, is a public calamity. 9. That war only is 
just, which is necessary. 10. The worst of law 
is, that one suit breeds twenty. 11. Be not ruin- 
ed by your neglect. 12. Ignorance is a misfortuns 

Anecdote. An Unwelcome Visitor. A 
person, who often intruded himself in a read- 
ing-room and library, to which he was not a 
subscriber, had his pet dog turned out by the 
crusty old sexton ; who gave him a kick, say- 
ing — "you are not a subscriber at any rate." 
The intruder took the hint; and never ap- 
peared again in the establishment, till he be- 
came a patron. 

Horace, a celebrated Roman poet, relates, 
that a countryman, who wanted to pass a 
river, stood loitering on the banks of it, in the 
foolish expectation, that a current so rapid 
would soon discharge its waters. But the 
stream still flowed, (increased perhaps by 
fresh torrents from the mountains,) and it 
must forever flow ; because the source from 
which it is derived, is inexhaustible. Thus, 
the idle and irresolute youth, trifles over his 
books, or squanders, in childish pursuits, his 
precious moments, deferring the business or 
improvement, (which at first might be render- 
ed easy and agreeable, but which, by delay, 
becomes more and more difficult,) until the 
golden sands of opportunity have all run, and 
he is called to action, without possessing the 
requisite ability. 

Varieties. 1. Has the invention cf gunpow- 
der been beneficial to the world 1 The mind, 
like the soil, rises in value, according to the 
nature and degree — of its cultivation. 3. 
Labor and prudence, relievs us from three 
great evils, — vice, want, and indolence. 4. 
A vjise man reflects, before he speaks; a 
foolish one speaks, and then reflects on what he 
has said. 5. Our happiness does not consist 
in being without passions, but in having 
command of them. 6. Good — is never more 
effectually accomplished, than when produced 
by slow degrees. 7. True charity— cannot 
be conjoined to a persuasion of falsity, flow- 
ing, from evil. 

There's quiet— in the deep :— 
Above, let tides— and tempests rave, 
And earth-born whirlwinds— wake the wave; 
Above, let care — and fear contend 
With tin and sorrow — to the end: 
Here, far beneath the tainted foam, 
That frets — above our peaceful horn*, 
We dream in joy, aiid wake in love, 
Nor know the rage — tnat yeKs above t 

There's quiet in the deep ! 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



75 



311. XTnaccenled Vowels. There is great 
beauty in pronunciation, where each letter, 
that is not silent, tells upon the ear its true 
character, and all contribute to produce the 
desired effect : hence, the great necessity of 
giving to all letters, syllables, and words, 
their proper sounds; especially, the vowels, 
whether long or short, accented or unaccent- 
ed : as, — on the pres-ent oc-ca-sion I shall not 
oUtempt to prej-u-dice your o-pin-ions or e- 
7no-tions to ac-com-plish ray oh-jects ; is it 
pos-si-ble, the ter-n-\Ae of-fence of the gen-er- 
al, in re/-er-ence to the ma/2-u-scripts, is par- 
/('c-u-lar-ly con-spic-u-ous in the rcd-o-lent 
can-o-py of heav-en ! the d£l-e-gate re-quests 
me to give an oc-cu-lar ed-u-ca-tion to his del- 
i-cate child, and be par-/ic-u-lar in its e-nun- 
ci-a-tion and pro-nun-ci-a-tion. 

a 13. A co7i-\ ert is one, who is con-i>er/-ed 
from one side to another, and a cwi-vict is one 
who ha s been con-mc-ted of some crime. The 
con-voy con-voyed the king to his throne, and 
placed a cor-o-nal on his co-ro-nal brow. I 
will coun-ter-baZ-ance that coim-ter-bal-ance, 
and conn-ter-bi/ff the enemy's courc-ter-buff. 
They will coun-ter-charge the cotm-ter-charge 
on England, and coun-ter-cAarm the broker's 
co im-ter-charm, while we coun-ter-c/tecfe the 
private's coun-ter-check. The general coun- 
ter-niands his officer's cotm-ter-mand, as 
we coun-ter- march our coim-ter-march. We 
will coun-ter-pM your cwm-ter-plots, and 
coxm-tex-mine your couw-ter-mines. He coun- 
ter-poised their cou n-ter-poise, and coun-ter- 
vailed their co un-ter-vail. 

Motes. 1. Different words, as well as the same words, 
»«7 oe iccented on different vowels, according to the object con- 
tcn.olated; thus— in-brate, pro-pore, brig-<&&:, Atw-band, au-gvst, 
an-gust, corn-pound. 2. The accent is generally on the root, or 
thane of the word ; but sometimes on the subordinate part 3. 
In reading foetry, the accent may be different from what it would 
be in prose, for the sake of the melody of the verse. 4. Remem- 
ber, vowels must be prolonged on their radical parts, not on their 
vanishing movements. 5. Observe how lively, varied and inter- 
esting a passage is, when pronounced with proper accentual force; 
and see how indpid and monotonous without it. 6. Always let 
vour accent be well marked and sustained ; then your delivery will 
be brilliant, sprightly and effective. 

Anecdote. Undergoing a great hard- 
ship. During a trial in Court, where judge 
Parsons presided, a lawyer desired to know 
what a witness meant by keel-hauling. " Do 
you not know?" replied the judge; "he 
means that it is undergoing a great hard 
ship, to be sure!" 

Fare thee well I the ship is ready, 
And the breeze — is fresh and steady. 
Hands are fast the anchor weighing ; 
High in air — the streamer's playing. 
Spread the sails — the waves arc swelling 
Proudly round thy buoyant dwelling; 
Fare thee well I and when at sea, 
Think of those who sigh for thee. 

Acquaintance grew; the acquaintance they improved 
To frieruishr- ; frendship— ripenend into love. 



Proverbs. 1. Our bsi security consists in 
innocence, and the cheering influence of approv- 
ing conscience. 2. Tardiness and precipitation 
are extremes equally to be avoided. 3. The 
brave may fall, but never yield. 4. Boohs alons 
can never teach the use of books. 5. Common 
fame — is often a common liar. 6. Words — are 
leaves ; deeds are fruits. 7. Deserve success, and 
you shall command it. 8. False friends are 
worse than open enemies. 9. Goodness alone, 
enriches the possessor. 10. He who avoids the 
temptation, avoids the sin. 11. Knowledge is no 
burden. 12. Man proposes, and God dieposej. 

Woman. What a consoler is woman ! 
None but her presence can so win a man 
from his sorrow, make placid the knit brow, 
and wreathe the stern lip into a smile. The 
soldier — becomes a lightsome boy at her feet; 
the anxious statesman — smiles himself back 
to free-hearted youth beside her; and the still 
and shaded countenance of care — brightens 
beneath her influence, as the closed flower 
blooms in the sunshine. 

Varieties. 1 . What is truth ? Heaven and 
earth, are interested in this momentous ques- 
tion. 2. Flee from sloth; for the indolence 
of the soul, is the decay of the body. 3. Elo- 
quence is of two kinds, — that of the heart 
which is called divine ; and that of the head, 
which is made up of conceit and sophistry. 
4. It is no small grief to one's good nature, 
to try his friends. 5. Talk not of the love 
that outlives adversity ; the love, that remains 
with it, is a thousand times more rare. 6 
Deliberate with caution, and act with preci 
sion ; yield with grace, and oppose with 
firmness. 7. The internal man is formed in 
the body, as a tree in the ground, or a seed in 
the fruit. 

AUTUMN EVENING. 
•Behold — the western evening light! 

It meltt— in deepening gloom ; 
So calmly — Christians sink away, 

Descending — to the tomb. 
The winds — breathe low, the withering l&tf 

Scarce whispers — from the tree ; 
So gently — flows the parting breath, 

When good men — cease to be. 
Eow beautiful— on all the hills, 

The crimson light is shed ! 
'Tib like the peace — the Christian give* 

To mourners— round his bed. 
How mildly — on the wandering cloud. 

The sunset beam— is cast ! 
'Tis like the memory— left behind, 

When loved ones— breathe their last. 
And now, above the dews of night, 

The yellow star— appears ; 
So— faith springs in the heart of those, 

Whose eyes — are bathed in tears. 
But soon — the morning's happier ligh 

Its glory shall restore ; 
And eyelids, that are sealed in death 

Shall wake — to close no more. 

True religion — 
Is always mild, propitious, and humane, 
Plays not the tyrant, plants no faith in blood; 
But stoops to succor, polish, and redress, 
And builds her grandeur— on the public gooi. 



76 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



313. A too frequent recurrence of accent- 
ed vowels, occasions a heavy utterance, in 
consequence of the almost continual succes- 
sion of vocal efforts: it is seen and felt in 
words, particularly the monosyllables, and in 
sentences, or members of sentences, and is the 
cause of the slow rate in the movement of the 
voice. Exs. " And ten low words oft creep in 
one dull line. O'er hills, o'er dales, o'er crags, 
o'er rocks, they go. Up the high lull he heaves 
a huge round stone." Whenever accent oc- 
curs frequently, there is always a predomi- 
nance of quantity ; and the delivery, of neces- 
sity, is much slower. Now here we have posi- 
tive evidence that monosyllables have accent. 
Our best authors use the shortest words, 
which are usually of Saxon origin; hence, 
the charm, the witchery of certain speakers 
and writers. 

314:. He des-cants upon the des-cant of 
the preacher, who deserts his post, and goes 
into the des-ert, to live on spicy des-sei-ts. 
I will di-gest the di-gest, although I dis-cord 
every thing like dis-cord; I will also dis- 
couni Hits note for a reasonable dis-count, be- 
cause he asked me down-right, in a down- 
right manner. 

315. Education means the development, 
perfection, and proper use of the body and 
mind : it relates to the training and guardi- 
anship of youth, from infancy to mature age 
— to the influencing of the character and 
prospects, not only of individuals, but of 
nations. The highest powers and nobiest 
sentiments of our nature might remain for- 
ever dormant, were they not developed and 
matured by the instruction and example of 
the wise and good. In a still wider sense, 
education may mean the whole training of 
the thoughts and affections by inward reflec- 
tion and outward events and actions, by in- 
tercourse with men, " by the spirits of the 
just made perfect" — by instruction from the 
wonn, and the training the whole man for 
life and immortality. 

Notes. 1. It would be extremely difficult, considering the 
partially developed and cultivated state of the voice, tar, and lan- 
guage, to give definite rules for pronouncing the unaccented vow- 
els, in consequence of their verging towards each other in many 
words; of course, we must avoid too much stiffness on the one 
hand, and vulgarity on vne other ; the time will come, however, 
when everything with regard to elocution will be as fixed and cer- 
tain as in the science of music ; which is as perfect as the science 
of numbers. 2. Never forget that without a good articulation, no 
one can become a correct reader, or speaker ; and whatever other 
defects one may have, if be possess thu excellence, he will be lis- 
tened to with pleasure and profit : there is something very attrac- 
tive and winning, in a clear, distinct and correct enunciation, 
which delight* and captivates the soul. Let no one excuso himself 
b Dm becoming perfect in this essential requisite. 

What— cannot patience do ? 

A great design — is seldom ruatchM at once t 

Tis patience heaves It on. 

From lavage nature, 

Tis patience, that has built up human life, 

The nurte of arts ; and Rome exalts her head, 

An everlasting monument to patience. 



Proverbs. 1. Make provision Jer wmnt In 
time of plenty. 2 Live and let live— is a good 
motto. 3. Of all flatterers, self-love is the 
greatest. 4. Perspicuity is inseparable from elo- 
quence. 5. Restraint from ill is the best kind ot 
freedom. 6. Sin and sorrow are inseparable 
companions. 7. Speech i» the gift of all ; thought 
of but few. 8. That which opposes right, must 
be wrong. 9. Undutiful children — make wretch- 
ed parents. 10. No one can tell how much he can 
accomplish, till he tries. 11. The hand of the 
diligent maketh rich. 12. Ill got — ill spent. 

Anecdote. Dangerous Biting. Dioge- 
nes, of old, being one day asked, the biting of 
what beasts is the most dangerous, replied, — 
"If you mean wild beasts, it is that of the 
slanderer ; if tame ones, of the flatterer." 

True Empire. It is pleasant to be virtu- 
ous and good ,• because, that is to excel many 
others; — it is pleasant to grow better; be- 
cause that is to excel ourselves ; it is pleas- 
ant to mortify and subdue our lusts, because 
that is victory ; — it is pleasant to command 
our appetites and passions, and to keep them 
in due order, within the bounds of reason and 
religion, — because — that is empire. 

Varieties. 1. Are Rail-Roads and Ca- 
nals, a benefit to the country ? 2. He, who 
is slowest in making a promise, is generally 
the most faithful in performing it. 3. When 
a teacher is to be hired, there is generally a 
terrible pressure in the money market. 4. 
Uh-educated mind is ed-ucated vice. 5. 
They, who love flattery, are in a fair way to 
repent of their vieakness; yet how few are 
proof against its attacks. 6. If others attrib- 
ute more to us than is our due, they are 
either designing or mistaken; and, if they 
allow us - less, they are envious or ignorant ; 
and, in both cases should be disi-egardcd. 
7. The Lord is ever present in the human 
soul, and we are tried every moment in all 
we will, think, do, hear, or say. 

CURRAN'S DAUGHTER— EMMET'S EETROTHED. 
She is far from the land — where her young hao sleeps, 

And lovers— around her are sjghiqg ; 
But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps, 

For her heart — in his grave — is lying. 
She sings the wild songs— of her dear native plains, 

Every note, which he lov'd — awaking, — 
Ah '. little they think, who delight in her strains, 

How the heart of ths minstrel— is breaking. 
He bad liv'd — for his love— for his country — he dtest 

They were all — that to life had intwin'd him — 
Nor soon— shall the tears of his country be dried, 

Nor long — will his love stay behind him 
Oh ! make her a grave — where the sunbeams rest, 

When they promise a glorious morrow. 
They'll shine o'er her sleep — like a smile Inrn the teat. 
From her own lov'd island of sorroiu 
Oft I hear, 
Upon the silence of the midnight air, 
Celestial voices — swell in boly diorus • 
That bears the soul — to heaven. 

Impartial — as the grave, 
Sleep, — robs the cruel tyrant— of his power. 
Gives rest and freedom to the overwrought ilaea 
And steals the wretched beggar— t'rem b'u warn 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



77 



a 16. A too ./>?-frequent occurrence of ac- 
cent, produces indistinctness ; because of the 
rapidity with which the unaccented sounds 
must be pronounced ; depending, as they do, 
on the radical or accented vowels: in pro- 
nouncing sucli words, be particular to con- 
centrate the voice, strongly, on the accented 
vowels ; and that will give you sufficient im- 
pelling power, to carry you easily through 
the word. Ex. Hisdis-in-ter-est-ed-ness and 
in-tel-li-gi-&t/-i-ty are «&-so-lute-ly in-ea;-ph- 
ea-ble ; I un-tes-i-ta-ting-ly say, that the un- 
rca-son-a-ble-ness of that tri-per-son-al-ist's 
scheme is an ir-r<°/-ra-ga-ble proof of lat-i-tu- 
di-?n/-ri-an-ism ; he spoke com-mu-ni-ca-tive- 
ly of his in-tf is-so-lu-ble sfcr-en-li-ness, which 
he, hi-e-ro-gZ///)A-i-cal-ly and per-e/njs-to-ri-ly 
declared, was neither an-ti-pes-ti-ten-tial, ccn- 
gra^-u-la-to-ry, nor in-con-tro-m--ti-b]e. 

217. Pay particular attention, not only to 
the errors of foreigners, in pronunciation, but 
also to those of our own countrymen: let 
nothing of importance escape your critical 
observation: in this way, jour voice, taste, 
and ear, will be cultivated, and you will be 
saved from such defects as would, if indulged 
in, impede your progress in these arts, and 
prevent you from being extensively useful in 
your day and generation. 

218. He in-lay s the table with silver in- 
lays. Instinct is the power derived from 
above, that determines the will of the brute 
creation, while all nature is instinct with life 
from the same source. The in-sult returned 
insults the man, as it inter-diets the inter- 
change which invalids inter-change d for an 
in-val-id in-terdict. His mi-nute mis-con-duct 
every min-nte that he miscon-ducts, mi-nute- 
ly affects the lady mirc-utely. 

219. Laughing Scientifically. The fol- 
lowing suggestions are given for the forma- 
tion of laughing glee clubs; in the hope that 
this remarkably healthful and anti-melan- 
choly exercise, may aid in accomplishing its 
very beneficial effects in old and young, male 
and female. Let a number of persons, say 
six, or eight, form a circle, sitting, or stand- 
ing, erectly, with the shoulders thrown back, 
and the leader commence, by giving one 
laugh, in the use of the syllable huh : then, let 
the one at his right hand repeat it, which is 
to be reiterated by each one till it comes 
round: then, without any loss of time, let the 
leader repeat the word, adding another, (huh, 
2/j.h,) which is to be taken up as before by 
the club ; and, as it comes to him the third 
time, let him add another, (huh hull, huh.) 
and so on, till there follows a complete round 
of shouts, and roars of laughter. 

Again — I feel my bosom bound, 
My heart sits lightly on its seat; 
My cares— are all in rapture drown'd, 
In every pulse— new pleasures beal. 



Proverbs. 1. Want of punctuality is a spe- 
cies oi falsehood. 2. Youth — is the best season for 
improvement. 3. No confidence can be placed in 
those, who are in the habit of telling lies. 4. Good, 
and bad habits, formed during youth, generally go 
with us during life. 5. Our best friends are those, 
who tell us oar faults, and teach us to cornet them. 
6. A kind word, or even a kind look, often affords 
great comfort to the afflicted. 7. Tis not those 
who read the most, that know ihe most; but, those 
who refect and practice the most. 8. The sun — is 
never the icorse for shining on a dunghill. 9. True 
valor — \sfire; bullying — is smoke. 10. Wealth l* 
not his, who gets it; but his who enjoys it. 11. Dy 
ing—is as natural as livbig. 12. All covet— ail lose. 

Anecdote. Sea-Lawyers. A member of 
the bar, on his passage to Europe in a 
steam vessel, observed a shark near them ; 
and not knowing what it was, asked one of 
the sailors ; who replied, with much gravity, 
H Here, we call ; em sea-lawyers.'' 

Khoavh by our Fruits. A man — is 

known by his vjords — as a tree — by its fruit; 
and if we would be apprised of the nature 
and qualities of any one, let him but dis- 
course, and he will speak them to us. better 
than another can describe them. We may 
therefore perceive how proper it is — for those 
to hold their tongues, who would not discover 
the shallowness of their understandings. 
Empty vessels — make the greatest sound, and 
the deepest rivers — are most silent. It is a 
true observation, that those who are weakest 
in understanding, and slowest of apprehen 
sion, are, generally, the most precipitate — ir. 
uttering their crude conceptions. 

Varieties. 1. Why is an egg — tm-done, 
like an egg over-donel Because, both are 
hardly done. 2. A prying disposition — into 
what does not concern one, and a tatling 
tongue — are two very common evils. 3. The 
bones of birds are hollow, and filled with air, 
instead of marrow; hence their power of 
making sound. 4. Unprofitable speech — is like 
the cypress, which is great and tall, yet bears 
no fruit. 5. Nature, in too many instances, 
is pushed from her throne; the world having 
lost its relish for her truth and purity. 6. 
Swift — dedicated one volume of his works to 
" Prince Posterity;''' and there is m an liness in 
the act. 7. Every advancement in good, is a 
delivery from evil influences; and every fall 
in evil, is a victory, obtained by them ovei 
the soul. 

If we are wise — and judge aright, there's scarce 
An ill of life (however keen or hard 
To bear), but good may be extracted thence ! 
Tis so by Providence ordained, to those 
Who seek for light— amid the shade of gloom. 
It is, indeed, a sombre sky, where not 
One cheerful speck appears. Why gaze aloru 
On that, which doth appal the soul, and pass 
The cheering xay, which, constant gazing on, 
Might so expand, to chase the sombre cloud! 



78 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



330. There are words, as we have seen, 
that are spelt alike, but pronounced different- 
ly, by changing the seat of accent : because 
the meaning is different: and there are words, 
spelt nearly alike, and pronounced by some 
alike, though incorrectly ; and the conse- 
quence often is, a complete perversion of the 
sense. A minister took for hi3 text, the fol- 
lowing very comprehensive words; " He that 
feareth God, and worketh righteousness, is 
accepted of him." But instead of reading it 
as contained in the Bible, he perverted it, by 
saying: "He that feareth God, and worketh 
righteousness, is erc-cepted of him :" that is 
left out ; excluded. 

221. Practice on the following, and simi- 
lar words, and distinguish the vowel sounds 
by their appropriate pronunciation. The ab- 
o-li-tion move-ment is oc-cept-ed by some, 
and ex-cepi-ed by others. 2. Being con-n- 
dent of his con-fi-dant, the ^e?--son-age work- 
ed the ,/i-na-ry, by the jpar-son-age of his 
j£-na-ry. 3. The rad-ish pen-dant, looking 
red-ish, was pen-dent in the nose of the 
bar-on whose lands were bar-ren. 4. His 
saZ-a-ry was ecl-e-ry, because he lived under 
the cap-i-iol in the cap-i-tal of the state, op- 
posite the office that was ap-po-site to his 
purpose. 

2-22. Telling Stories. Who has not ob- 
served the intense interest, manifested by 
children, in hearing one another tell stories? 
They will sit up till midnight, without being 
sleepy; and are generally driven to their 
homes, or their bed. How readily they re- 
member, andrelate interesting stories to their 
companions, days, weeks, and months, and 
even years, after first hearing them : the rea- 
son is, they not only see and understand these 
tales, but feel them intensely ; and hence, 
they easily get them by heart, as it is called. 
Why have net teachers long since taken a 
hint of the mode, in which to communicate 
all the varieties of scientific, and useful knowl- 
edge to their pupils ! Let them take turns in 
telling stories after their teachers ; and if their 
exercises are judiciously managed, as they 
maybe, they will be found exceedingly amus- 
ing, and promotive of a very rapid devel- 
opment of mind. 

Anecdote. Double Meaning. An illiter- 
ate personage, who always volunteered — to 
go round with his hat, was suspected of spa- 
ring his own pocket. Overhearing, one day ? 
a remark to that effect, he made the follow- 
ing reply : " Other gentlemen puts down 
what they think proper, and so do I. Chari- 
ty's a private concern, and what I give is 
nothing to nobody" 
Do»t thou know the fate of soldiers? 
They're hut ambition's tools — to cut a way 
To her unlawful ends ; and when they're worn, 
Hacked, heion — with constant service, thrown aside, 
To rust ~\r. peace, or rot — in hospitals. 



Proverbs. 1. He punctual— in all your ap 
jwintments, and howst — in all your dealings. 2. 
Always live so that the world may be the belter, foi 
your living in it. 3. Never make sporlof an in- 
sane, or intoxicated person. 4. Let tin; law of 
kindness — be ever on your tongue. 5. In convert 
sation, seek out acceptable words. 6. Never re- 
quire favors, but ask for them. 7. Avoid doing 
things, that are calculated to excite attention. 8. 
I.earn to practice self-denial, when it will promote 
the happiness of others. 9. Kindly and faiOifuUy 
remind your friends and companions, of their 
faults. 10. Bo accurate in every thing. 11. No 
rose without a thorn. 12. Pride— will have a. fall. 

Discovery of Glass. Pliny informs us, 
that the art of making glass — was acciden- 
tally discovered by some merchants, who 
were traveling with nitre, and stopped near a 
river, issuing from Mount Carmel. Not find 
ing anything to rest their kettles on, the) 
used some pieces of nitre for that purpose 
The nitre gradually dissolving by the heat, 
mixed with the sand, and a transparent mat- 
ter flowed, which was in fact glass. It is cer- 
tain that we are often more indebted to appa- 
rent chance, than genius — for many of the 
most valuable discoveries: therefore every 
one should keep his eyes and ears open, — his 
thoughts and feelings awake and active. 

Varieties. 1. Why should any one think 
it a disgrace — to war k for his living'? 2. In- 
vestigate every subject, with which you be- 
come acquainted, until you understand i1 
thoroughly. 3. "I'll try," is a plant, that 
would flourish in the frigid zone ; " I can't,' 
would be barren any where. 4. Never con- 
demn another, for not knowing- what you 
have just learned; or perhaps do not clearly 
understand,. 5. No tongue can tell, or intel- 
lect perceive, the full import of the word 
home. 6. The true christian religion — is a 
divine wardrobe, containing garments for all 
kinds and orders of wearers. 7. As the soul 
advances in true resignation of its own will, 
to the will of God, every principle and facul- 
ty of mind — becomes sanctified, even down 
into the life of the 



Weep not, that Time 
Is passing on, — it will — ere long, reveal 
A brighter era to the nations. Hark ! 
Along the vales — and mountains of the earth 
There is a deep, portentous murmuring, 
Like the swift rush — of subterranean streams ; 
Or like the mingled sounds of earth and air. 
When the fierce Tempest, with sonorous wing, 
Heaves his deep folds upon the rushing winds, 
And hurries onward — with his night of clouds 
A gainst the eternal mountains. Tis the voice 
Of infant Freedom, — and her stirring call 
Is heard — and answered — in a thousaiul tones, 
From every hill-Xop of her Western home. — 
And lo, it breaks across old Ocean's flood.— [shout 
And "Freedom! Freedom!" is the answering 
Of nations, starting from the spell of years 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



19 



5823. When accented and unaccented syl- 
lables are agreeably interspersed through the 
words, neither a heavy utterance, nor indis- 
tinctness occurs. Ex. "Not so, when swift 
Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er the un- 
bending corn, and skims along the main." 
Now, compare the movement of the voice in 
this, with the following, and see and feel the 
difference : " And ten low words oft creep in 
one dull line." The former is like a nag, that 
gallops off in fine style ; the latter, one that 
creeps, like a snail. The reason is, as you 
perceive, in one case, there is life and light ; 
in the other, nothing but words. 

58584. Neither teachers nor parents, can be 
too wisely careful of the influence, exerted 
upon their pupils and children: for principles 
apply to both matter and spirit. " Jttst as 
the twig is bent, the tree's inclined." Again, 
since thoughts are imperishable existences, 
we should be careful in entertaining and 
cherishing any other, than such as we are 
willing to have for our companions on earth, 
and during our eternal state of being in the 
future world. Here, then, is something for 
all of us to attend to ; and unspeakable con- 
sequences are depending on the performance 
of duty. Are we of the number of those, who 
turn back in the day of battle '! or, of those 
who gird on their armor, to do, or die ? 

335. Position in Bed. There js no doubt, 
that the habit of forming round or humped 
shoulders, (which is rarely, if ever, natural,) 
is contracted in infancy, end childhood. The 
incautious mother, not understanding the 
principles of physiology, lays the infant on a 
pillow of feathers, instead of on a good mat- 
tress, or straw bed, without pillows; thus, 
elevating the head far too much above the le- 
vel of the body ; and this practice is continued 
in after-life, very much to the detriment of 
health, and beauty of form. If necessary, 
raise the Aead-posts of the bedstead a few 
inches, instead of using pillows. 

N"oteS. 1. Observe, that when the accent is at, or near, the 
beginning of the word, it materially aids the expulsive stress of 
voice, carrying us mote easily through the word, than when it is 
placed near the last end : the genius of our language is in favor of 
the former; hence, the tendency is to place the accent at the be- 
ginning ; which makes language more powerful and effective. 2. 
In running, the impetus of preceding efforts carries us on after 
Uxwj efforts have ceased. 

Anecdote. ATough Animal. "The con- 
stitution of our females must be excellent," 
says a celebrated physician; "for, take an 
ox, or a horse, and enclose his sides with cor- 
sets, — and he would labor indeed, — but it 
would be for breath." 

Nothing — is lasting — on the world's wide stage, 

As sung, and wisely sung, the Grecian sage ; 

And man, who, through the globe — extends hit sway, 

Reigns— but the sovereign creature— of a day ; 

One generation comes, another — goes, 

Time— blends the happy— with the man of woe*; 

A different face of things — each age appears, 

/nd all thing?— alter— in a course of years. 



Proverbs. 1. He w ho mar. .ea for wealth, sells 
his liberty. 2. A friend, which you buy with pre- 
sents, may be bought from you. 3. Ladies — will 
soonej pardon want of sense, than want of good 
manners. 4. The remedy for love is — land between. 
5. You may know a. foolish woman — by her fin- 
ery. 6. Temperance, employment, and » cheerfui 
spirit — are great, preservers and restorers of health. 
7. Many a one digs his grave with his teeth. 8 
The epicure — puts his purse in his stomach; and 
the miser — his stomach in his purse. 9. Change o4 
weather is the discourse of fools. 10. We hate *♦• 
lay; but it often makes us wiser. 11. Talking — 
does no work. 12. Past labor is pleasarJ. 

Laconics. Never mystify science; but, 
if i)0ssible, always elucidate it. Knowledge 
— is too important — to be made the subject 
of a silly joke. 

Varieties. 1. If content does not remove 
the disquietudes of life, it will at least alleviate 
them. 2. Can matter ever be annihilated? 
3. Every sentence we read under standingly, 
is like,a cast of the weavers shuttle, adding 
another thread to the web of life. 4. They, 
who are governed by reason, need no other 
motive than the goodness of an act, to excite 
them to practice it. 5. A reading people will 
become a thinking people ; and then, they 
are capable of becoming a great people. 6. 
A diligent pen supplies many tlwughts. 7. 
Nothing but divine love, and divine wisdom, 
can proceed from God, the centre of all beings 

DEATH OF A HEART-FRIEND. 

If I had thought — thou couldst ha^e died, 

I might not weep for thee ; 
But I forgot, when by thy side, 

That thou couldst mortal be. 
It never through my mind had passed, 

The time would e'er be o'er, 
And I on thee — should look my last. 

And thou shouldst smile — no more! 
And still — upon that/«ce I look, 

And think — "'twill smile again ; 
And still the thought— I will not brook 

That I must look in vain! 
But when I speak, — thou dost not say, 

What thou ne'er left'st unsaid; 
And now I feel, as well I may, 

Sweet Mary ! thou art dead ! 
If thou wouldst stay, e'en as thou art. 

All cold— and all serene, — 
I still might press thy silent heart, 

And where thy smiles have been ! 
While e'en thy chill, bleak corse I hav» 

Thou seemest still my own ; 
But there I lay thee— in thy grave,— 

And I am now — alone! 
I do not think, where'er thou art, 

Thou hast forgotten me ; 
And I, perhaps, may soothe tliia heart 

In thinking, too, of thee. 
Yet there was round thee — such a dawi 

Of light, ne'er seen before, 
As fancy- -nvxer could have drawn, 

And ttetvr • w\ ^'J^ore! 



RO 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



226. Revisions. The great practical im- 
portance of this subject, demands a passing 
remark. In reviling, we not only gather up 
thefragments, but refresh our minds with a 
reproduction of what we previously had 
learned. By reviewing our studies, we often 
rind the materials, with which we can over- 
come difficulties, that 6eem almost insur- 
mountable ; hence, revisions frequently serve 
as a key, to unlock the casket, that contains 
invaluable treasures. And we must guard 
against thinking of the principles, as being 
contained in the book ; unless they are un- 
derstood and felt in the mind, and by the 
mind, and through the body are reduced to 
practice, they are, so far as we are concerned, 
valueless and dead. Seeing food, or think- 
ing of it, will impart no nourishment to the 
body; it must be eaten, digested, and appro- 
priated. 

227. Now repeat all the sounds of the let- 
ters, in their alphabetical order, as found on 
page 63 ; omitting those that are duplicates ; 
then give the vowels and consonants, by them- 
selves: afterwards, give the short vowels, 
and (he long ones by themselves, and read 
*everal paragraphs by vowel sounds; after 
which, give the vocal consonants, and aspi- 
rates, by themselves: then the single, dou- 
ble, and triple ones, and analyze words, 
spelling them by their sounds; also, raise 
and fall the eight vowels, according to the di- 
atonic scale, in article 64; then revise the 
two modes of making accent; practice on 
the changes of its seat, and realize the impor- 
tant use of every exercise. » 

228. The pre-con-traet pre-con-tracts the 
pre-nx which is nre-fixed to the prel-ude, 
with which the speaker nre-ludes the pres- 
ent pres-age, that he nre-sag'd the man would 
r>re-sent. The prod-wee of the land was such 
as to pro-duce a yw-o-ject to nro-tett against 
the man who nro-jects the infamous prni-est 
against the reb-el that re-bels against the 
law. I re-fuse to re-cord either the refuse or 
*he ra>ord, or re-tail them by wholesale or 
re-tail. 

229. A Dandy of some use. Let the pu- 
pil impress on his mind the absolute necessi- 
ty, for awhile, of keeping his shoulders 
thrown back, so as to make the breast as 
round and prominent as possible: and then, 
after a few days, or weeks at farthest, he will 
feel very uncomfortable to sit, stand, or labor, 
in a bent position. But. says one, "I should 
look so much like a dandy.'" Never mind 
that, provided it be right; and if you can 
make this much use of so superfluous an ar- 
ticle, it may serve to show you, that nothing 
exlsis in vain: think of the wisdom and in- 
dustry of the bee. 

This smooth discourse,— and mild behavior, oft 
Conceals— a traitor. 



Proverbs. 1. Never repulse an associate xntX 

unkindness. 2. Love one another with a pure 
heart fervently. 3. The morality of the christian 
religion, is not national, but universal. 4. Pru- 
dence says — take time by the foretop. 5. A bird in 
the hand, is worth two in the bush. 6. The dili- 
gent soul, shall be made rich. 7. Knowledge — is 
power; ignorance — is weakness. 8. An egg to 
day, is better than a hen to-morrow. 9. Worldly 
reputation and sensual pleasure, are destructive to 
virtue. 10. The history and wisdom of the world, 
can only be known by reading. 11. We are to be 
saved from our sins, not in our sins. 12. What- 
ever is worth reading at all, is worth reading well. 
Anecdote. Afraid of Work. A person 
once said to a father, whose son was noted 
for Ms laziness, that he thought his son was 
very much afraid of work. "Afraid of 
wm-k?''' replied the father, "not at all, — he 
will lie down, and go to sleep close by the 
side of it." 

Right Views. The more we ascribe all 
goodness and truth — to the Lord, the mare 
— will the interiors of the mind, be open to- 
wards heaven, the only source of happiness : 
for by thus doing, we acknowledge that noth- 
ing good and true is from ourselves ; and, in 
proportion as this is heartily confessed, the 
love of self — departs, and with it — the thick 
darkness, which arises from that which is 
false and evil : thus it is evident, how one — 
becomes wiser than another. As the exhala- 
tions from' the earth — rise and form clouds, 
more or less dense, thus obscuring the atmos- 
phere, and preventing the clear light of the 
sun; so, do the exhalations of self-love — arise 
and obscure the light of Divine truth, — of 
that Sun, which rules the world of mind. 

Varieties. 1. Does pain or pleasure- 
predominate in human life"? 2. Wedded\ife 
says a happy husband, is a perpetual foun- 
tain of domestic sweets. 3. Drinking watei 
— neither makes a man sick, nor runs him in 
debt, nor makes his wife a widow : can a> 
much be said of ardent spirits ? 4. He, who 
peeps through a keyhole, may see something 
to vex him. 5. That gentleness, which if 
characteristic of a good man> like every other 
virtue, has its seat in the heart : and nothing 
but what jiows from the heart — can render 
even external manners, truly pleasing. 6. 
The Lord came to seek and save those who 
are lost : and he saves all who are willing to 
be saved. 7. Love - principles and genuine 
truth, respect each other according to degrees 
of affinity: and the greater the affiriity, the 
greater is the attraction between them. 
Morning — hath her songs of gladnt$s± 

Sultry noon — its ferved glare, 
Evening hours, their gentle sadness, 

Night — its dreams, and rest from ea't; 
But the pensive twilight — ever 

Gives its own sweet fancies birth, 
Waking visions, that may never 

Know reality — on earth. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



81 



£30. Orthography — relates to the right 
placing of the letters in words, and Orthoepy 

-to the right pronouncing of words, accord- 
ing to the sounds of the letters, — the former 
— respects written language, and is addressed 
to the eye ; and the latter, spoken language, 
and is addressed to the ear,- the first supposes 
the second We may infer the perfection, 
which the ancient Greeks attained, in or-tho- 
e»p5 , from this fact, that when a public spea- 
ker—even pronounced a word incorrectly, the 
whole audience simultaneously hissed him. 
Whence did they acquire such accuracy of 
earl Doubtless, in spelling by the sounds 
of their letters, instead of by their names. 
When we adopt this method, which nature 
and science dictate, we shall attain like excel- 
lency in pronunciation, and our language 
will then be found to contain more power and 
sweetness than any other in the world. 

231. Pronunciation — is orthoepy, or the 
right utterance of words ; i. e. pronouncing 
words according to euphony, analogy and 
custom, which constitute the standard. The 
principal rule is, pronounce in the easiest and 
most effectual manner : and, when words are 
introduced from other languages, they should 
be pronounced according to the principles of 
our language ; that is, they must conform to 
the genius of the English language, as for- 
eigners do to that of our constitution, when 
they become naturalized, — abjuring foreign, 
uncongenial influences and principles, and 
submitting to ours. 

5833. Our Orthography and Orthoepy. 
Many foreigner's and natives find it difficult 
to speak our language, in consequence of the 
great difference between its spelliyig and its 
pronunciation, and the various sounds given 
to the same letters in similar, and in different 
combinations ; and, although, for the last two 
centuries, our ortfbography has remained 
nearly stationary, yet our ortheopy has been 
very much changed ; which may be seen in 
comparing the Bible, translated under James 
I., with the common edition. Different per- 
sons have proposed different means, for over- 
coming these difficulties, and nearly all 
without much success ; which is the less to 
oe regretted, when we consider how little the 
voice and ear have been developed and culti- 
vated, and thereby prepared to meet the exi- 
gencies of the case. It is now seen, on a 
faithful analysis and synthesis of their labors 
to revolutionize our language in these re- 
spects, that each reformers system is found 
to be very imperfect ; but the good work is 
going on slowly ; and, in process of time, 
it will be accomplished ; very much to the 
disappointment of book-worms, and to the 
gratification of that spirit of the age, which 
I00&3 more to the uses of things, than to their 
looks. 

BRONSON. 6 



Proverbs. 1. Reprove mildly, and correct 
with caution. 2. Let us creep before we walk, an<2 
walk before we fly. 3. One book, well read, is 
worth twenty skimmed over. 4. The greaksZ 
wealth — is contentment with a little. 5. A letter — 
is half a meeting. 6. We may read much, with- 
out understanding much. 7. Presence of mind. 
is necessary at all times. 8. Little boats should 
keep near shore; great ones — may venture more. 
9. I confide, and am at rest. 10. While there is 
life, there is hope. 11. He attains whatever he 
aims at. 12. A good story, is none the worse 'br 
being twice told. 

Anecdote. Dying but Once. When Ce- 
sar was advised, by some of his friends, to b# 
more cautious as to the security of his per- 
son, and not to walk among the people with- 
out arms, or any one to protect him; he 
replied, — " He, who lives in the fear of death, 
every moment feels its torture; I will die 
but once." 1 

Laconics. A rife of deceit — is one of un- 
mitigated torture — a living hell, which should 
deserve our pity for the unhappy beings whv 
submit to it. 

Varieties. 1. Are not the unity and trin- 
ity of God, the elemental and fundamental 
principles of christian theology ? 2. Charac- 
ter, based on goodness and truth, is a source 
of eternal happiness. 3. We are made what 
we are, by what is from above, icithin, and 
around us. 4. God gives to all, the power 
of becoming what they ought to be. 5. A 
full persuasion of our ability to do viell, is « 
powerful' motive to excellence, and a sure 
pledge of success. 6. It is our duty, and our 
happiness, to feel for others, and take an in- 
terest in their welfare. 7. The action of life, 
is desire; as is the desire and delight, with its 
consequent actions, such is the life. 

THE GOODNESS OF PROVIDENCE 

The Lord — ray pasture shall prepare, 
And feed me — with a shepherd's care : 
His presence — shall my wants supply, 
And guard me — with a watchful eye; 
My noon-day walks — lie shall attend, 
And all my midnight hours — defend. 
When, in the sultry glebe — I faint, 
Or, on the thirsty mountains pant ; 
To fertile vales, and dewy meads. 
My weary, wandering steps he leads, 
Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow, 
Amid the verdant landscape now. 
Though — in the paths of death — I tread, 
With gloomy horrors — overspread, 
My steadfast heart— shall fear no ill ; 
For thou, O Lord, art with me still : 
Thy friendly crook— shall give me aid, 
And guide me— through the dreadful shade. 
Though in a bare — and rugged way, 
Through devious— lonely wilds I stray. 
Thy bounty — shall my pains beguile; 
The barren wilderness — shall smile, 
With sudden greens — and herbage crowneo. 
And streams— shall murmur all around. 



82 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



233. Pronunciation — should be so sys- 
tematic, as to render it capable of being stu- 
died from its elementary principles, and be- 
come an object of methodical acquirement. 
Every tiling involved in producing sounds, 
in the conformation of the organs in articu- 
lation, the application of all that belongs to 
accented, ha //-accented, and im-accented 
vowels, and every principle of melody and 
euphony — are included in pronunciation, 
and tends to its perfection : but the ancients 
included also Emphasis, Intonation, Inflec- 
tion, Circumflexes and the other essentials of 
delivery. 

•334:. If the great object of pronunciation 
be, to produce the designed effect, in the best 
manner, we shall find it necessary to attend 
not only to the preceding principles, and 
iheir application, but to watch over useless 
innovations, and inclinations to senseless 
changes, — desires to be what is called fash- 
ionable — regardless of reason, and ambitious 
to shine as a leader in some peculiar pronun- 
ciation : then, our language will bear a rigid 
comparison with any other, either ancient or 
modern, when ends, causes and effects are ta- 
ken into consideration. Let us not, then, de- 
viate from established principles, and rules, 
without good and satisfactory reasons. 

235. Action and Reaction. Have you 
V" ever particularly noticed, the reciprocal ac-. 
tion between the voice and the mind, the 
tongue and the heart ? Well might the apos- 
tle exclaim, "How great a matter a little 
fire kindleth P' The tongue is full of pow- 
er for weal, or for wo, according to the state 
of the heart, that impels it to action. What 
is there, that cannot be talked up, or talked 
down by it 1 It is full of blessing, or curs- 
ing — love or hatred; and oh! how it can 
sting the soul, when it has been dipped in 
the gall and wormwood of hell ; and how lift 
it to heaven, when fired with celestial love. 

Notes. Always infill, perfectly, the accented vowel, and 
more so, in proportion as the word is important ; i. e. shape the 
vowel sound completely, by the appropriate organs, and give it all 
its necessary power, filling it full of the influence of the mind, in 
the proportion as you wish your ideas to be impressive and abiding. 
Mind possesses a magnifying power over words, making them 
mean more than they naturally do : which will be perfectly obvi- 
ous in the specific practice of the principles which we are gradu- 
»Hy approaching. 

Anecdote. "I suppose," (said an arrant 
quack, whUe feeling the pulse of his patient,) 
"that you think me afoot." "Sir," (replied 
the sick man,) " I perceive you can discover 
» man's thoughts by his pulse." 
If all our hopes and all our fears, 

Were prisoned in life's narrow bound; 
If, travelers through this vale of tears, 

We saw no better world beyond ; 
Oh! what could check the rising sigh? 

What earthly thing, could pleasures give? 
Oh! who would venture then, to die, 
Or who would venture then, to live 7 



Proverbs. 1. The conduct of men m aw **• 

ilex to their hearts; for by lhair fruits ye shall ktutm 
them. 2. In arduous and trying circumstance* 
preserve equanimity ; and in prosperous hours, 
restrain the ebullitions of excessive joy. 3. Thoss 
things that belong to others generally please u* ; 
while those that are our own are more valued by 
others. 4. Attach yourself to good company and 
you will be respected as one of them. 5 Th« 
most distinguished men, of all ages, have had 
their imperfections. 6. Cutting jests, when the na- 
tive is true, inflicts a wound that is not soon forgot* 
ten. 7. Nothing is more disgusting, than a low- 
bTedfelloiv,when he suddenly attains an elevated 
station. 3. Either never attempt a thing, or accom- 
plish it. 9. Fortune — favors the bold, and aband- 
ons the timid. 10. Acts of kindness, shown to 
good men, are never thrown away. 11. War — is 
death's jest. 12. Of two evils — choose the least. 
Varieties. 1. If you make a present, 
give what will be useful. 2. Do not the 
wings, that form the butterfly, lie folded in 
the worm '! 3. Language — should first be 
learned by imitation. 4. One of the greatest 
obstacles, in the road to excellence, is indo- 
lence. 5. Humility — is that low, sweet root, 
from which all heavenly virtues shoot. 6. 
Acquire a thorough knowledge of all your 
duties. 7. God — is an infinite abyss of wis- 
dom : which is not comprehensible — either 
by men or angels, as to one millionth of ila 
parts : of its infinite store, they are to receive 
fresh supplies to all eternity. 

THE MOTHER'S INJUNCTION, ON PRESENTING HEU «OH 
WITH A EIBLE. 

Remember love, who gave thee this, 

When other days shall come • 
When she, who had thy earliest kiss, 

Sleeps — in her narrow home, 
Remember, 'twas a mother — save 
The gift to one — she'd die to save. 
That mother — sought a pledge of love, 

The holiest — for her son; 
And, from the gifts of God above, 

She chose a goodly one 
She chose, for her beloved boy, 
The source of light, and life, and joy, 
And bade him keep the gift, — that, whuti 

The parting hour would come, 
They might have hope — to meet again, 

In an eternal home. 
She said— hi3 faith in that— would be 
Sweet incense — to her memory. 
And should the scoffer, in Ms pride, 

Laugh that fond faith to scorn, 
And bid him cast the pledge aside, 

That — he from youth had borne ; 
She bade him pause, and ask his fcaasi 
If he, or she, had loved him best? 
A parent's blessing on her son 

Goes with this holy thing; 
The love, that would retain tba rmt. 

Must to the other cling. 
Remember! 'tis no idle toy, 
A mother's gift, Remember, boyf 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



53 



236. The only way that provincialisms, 
foreign accents and brogues, can be removed, 
is by individual attention to the first princi- 
ples of our language, as here exhibited, and, 
at the same time, following- a teacher who 
can give the true English pronunciation ; 
for sounds can only be learned by imitation ,• 
and this is the way in which Elocution and 
Music must be taught. Our language has 
suffered, and is suffering, greatly, Dy being 
improperly taught by foreigners, who can- 
not pronounce one half of our words with 
propriety. But a teacher may be able to pro- 
nounce single words with a good degree of 
correctness, and yet be unable to deliver sen- 
tences, in a proper manner. A few minutes 
every day, for a few weeks, devoted to the 
study and practice of these principles, will 
enable almost any one to discover and amend 
his errors and defects in articulating our for- 
ty-four sounds, and pronouncing correctly, 
the words in common use ; and if spelling by 
sounds and by sight, be faithfully practiced, 
one may secure another rare excellence, — 
that of writing our words with correctness 
and despatch. 

»37. Every thing in the universe, both of 
mind and of matter, exists in reference to cer- 
tain fixed principles, which arc called laws 
of order, originating in the Great First 
Cause, and thence emanating throughout all 
creation, animate and inanimate: and so 
long and so far, as these laws are obeyed, we 
are shielded from all evils, physical and spiri- 
tual : hence, if a man suffers, either in mind, 
or body, from within, or without, the cause 
of the suffering is an infringement of the 
Laws of Life. Such, then, are our constitu- 
tions, and relations, that we cannot will, 
think, or act, without obeying, or violating, 
ihese laws of Life, of Being, of Goo. Oh the 
lengths, the breadths, the heighths, and the 
iepths of the wisdom and love of Goo, as 
manifested in the creation, redemption, and 

1ALVATION OF MAN. 

Anecdote. Pity. A would-be orator, of 
»ery moderate abilities, after a long- ha- 
-angue, asked a real friend, if he did not ex- 
ate much compassion. He replied, "most 
'Artainly, you did sir ; every one of the au- 
dience pitied you most heartily." 

" The way was long, the wind was cola\ 
The minstrel — was infirm* and old; 
His wither'd check — and tresses gray, 
Seem'd to have known a better day. 
The harp, his sole remaining joy, 
Was carried— by an orphan boy." 

Ve- -'et the tender office long engage, 

To rock the cradle of reposing age ; 

RTith lenient arts— extend a mother's breath, 

Make languor smile, and smooth the bed of death , 

Explore the thought, explain the asking eye, 

Ind keep, a while, one parent from the sky I 



Proverbs. 1. Neither great povo- nor 
great riches will hear reason. 2. Wiie — id a mm - 
coat ; first a friend, then an enemy. 3. Diet and 
exercise are the two physicians of nature. 4. 
There is many a good house-vrtfe that can't sing, 
or dance. 5. Love — can neither be bought, nor 
sold. 6. He, that is a wise man, by day, is t.o 
fool by night. 7. The society of ladies— is a 
school of politeness. 8. An enemy to beauty u 
a. foe to nature. 9. When a man's coat is thread- 
bare, it is easy to pick a hole in it. 10. The study 
of vain things — is laborious idleness. 11. No 
mine equal to saving. 12. Dependence is a poor 
trade. 13. All is good that is useful. 

Contentment — produces, in some meas- 
ure, all those effects, which the alchymist 
usually ascribes to what he calls the philoso- 
pher's stone ; and if it does not bring riches, 
it does the same thing, by banishing the dt- 
sire of them. If it cannot remove the dis- 
quietudes, arising from a man's mind, body 
ox fortune, it makes him easy under them. 
It has indeed, a kindly influence on the soul 
of man, in respect of every being to whom he 
stands related. It extinguishes all murmur, 
repining, and ingratitude, towards that Be- 
ing, who has allotted him his part to act in 
this world. It destroys all inordinate ambi- 
tion, and every tendency to corruption, with 
regard to the community wherein he is plac- 
ed. It gives sweetness to his conversation, 
and a perpetual serenity — to all his thoughts. 

Varieties. Is it not strange, that nations 
of men could ever have admitted into their 
creed, the idea of a plurality of Gods ; when 
the whole of Nature bears on it so distinctly 
the impress of one mind ] 2. He is not the 
best reader, who speaks his words most rapid- 
ly ,- but he who does justice to them, by pro- 
nouncing them correctly, and effectively. 3. 
If a person delights in telling you the faults 
of others, be sure he intends to tell others 
your faults. 4. Never be a minute too late. 
5. Avoid loud talking and laughing in the 
streets. 6. The moral and intellectual man, 
seems to mould and modify the physical 
man. 7. We are rilled with the life of heaven, 
just so far as we are emptied of our own, and 
find in us an utter inability to do good, with- 
out divine assistance. 
A cloud lay cradled — near the setting sun — 

A gleam of crimson — tinged its braided sncin; 
Long had 1 watched the glory — moving on, 

O'er the still radiance — of the lake below. 
Tranquil its spirit seemed — and floated slow; 

Ee'n in its very motion — there was rest, 
While every breath of ere, that chanced to blow, 

Wafted the traveler— to the beauteous west- 
Emblem, methought, of the departed soul, 

To whose white ro&e, the gleam of bliss is give 2, 
And by the breath of mercy — made to roll 

Right onward— bo the golden gates of heave 
Where, to the eye of faith, it peaceful lies, 
And tells to man— his glorious destinies. 



84 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



338. Pronunciation, as has been observed, 
had a very comprehensive meaning among 
the smctents, taking in the whole compass of 
delivery, and involving every thing we see 
and hear in modern elocution : it is now con- 
fined within narrower limits, and has refer- 
ence only to tbe manner of sounding words. 
It is much to be regretted, that there is not 
■*iore agreement, even among literary and 
cientific men, with regard to this important 
branch of our subject : but when we reflect, 
*.hat not one in a hundred, takes it up syste- 
matically, and masters its principles, it is not 
su •prising that there Is so much discrepancy. 
This consideration of inattention to the sub- 
ject should put us on our guard against fol- 
lowing their examples in every respect, and 
of yielding implicit obedience to their whims 
and oddities. There is so much self-love and 
pride of intelligence, as well as passion for 
novelty, prevalent in the world, that the stu- 
dent in elocution, as well as in every thing 
else, should cleave to acknowledged and well 
established principles; and regard what is 
most useful instead of what is new. 

239. There are general as well as specific 
rules, for pronunciation : a partial idea of 
which, may be obtained from this manual of 
Elocution. The author has been engaged, 
for many years, in compiling a Dictionary, 
on an entirely new plan, so arranged, that 
when one has learned the definitions of a few 
hundred words, he can accurately define as 
many thousands; and with the use of his 
perfect alphabet, he will know the sound of 
every letter, the instant he sees it, and how 
to pronounce each word, without re-spelling, 
with the same facility. All things are gov- 
erned by fixed principles, when they are in 
true order; and when the principles of Pro- 
nunciation are properly developed, and ap- 
plied, they will be found as simple and effec- 
tive, as those of Elocution and Music 

Notes. I. As the voice is often affected, by a derangement 
of the respiratory and articulating organs: a few observations are 
made on some of their causes and remedies. 2. Colds and Coughs 
—are the effects of sudden exposure to a cold atmosphere, by 
which the pore* of the skin, (which is an exhalcnt surface,) be- 
comes constringed and obstructed ; which obstructions may be re- 
moved, by restoring to the skin, (which is the sa/c/y-valve of the 
grstem,) its usual offices. When one has taken cold, the mucus 
membrane of the lungs, and air passages, (which are also exha- 
l/:.'it3,) emit a new fluid — to compensate for the interruption in the 
afiet of the surface of the body ; and, as this new secretion con- 
«.'-•-< nf humors, which can be of no further use to the system, it 
exciUa a muscular effort, called a Cough ; by which it is detached 
rr»m the iurface o r ♦his inner skin, and expectorated. One of the 
kerf lemedies is a Vapor Bath, with an application of cold water, 
•nil f.iction immediately after. 

Anecdote. A parish clerk, having, accor- 
ding to custom, published the banns of matrir 
many, between a loving couple, was followed 
by the minister, who gave out the hymn, 
commencing with these words — "Mistaken 
touts ! that dream of Heaven." 

huLton gains all men —by compelling — none. 



Proverbs. 1. Endeavor to Improve In con* 
vernation. 2. He who La wise i.i sutaH matter*, 
will be wise in large ones. 3. Never say a/ooZ- 
ish thing. 4. None can speak so feelingly of an 
advantage, as he who has suffered by neglecting 
it. 5. Let not the sun go down on your wrath. 
6. Our minds are moulded and fashioned by the 
books we read. 7. Better be good, and not teem 
so, than seem good, and not be so. 8. A pleasant 
journey is dearly bought, with the loss of home. 
9. He, only, is a man, who governs himself. lft 
Jill have power to distinguish between rights 
and wrong. 11. Turn a deaf ear to obscene 
icords 12. Ml things are proven Dy contrast. 

Good Sense. It will preserve us from cen- 
soriousntss; will lead us to distinguish cir- 
cumstances; keep us from looking after vis- 
ionary perfection, and make us see things id 
their proper light. It will lead us to study 
dispositions, peculiarities, accommodations; 
to weigh consequences,- to determine what 
to observe and what to pass by; when to be 
immoveable, and when to yield. It will pro- 
duce good manners, keep us from taking 
freedoms, and handling things roughly; will 
never agitate claims of superiority, but teach 
us to submit ourselves one to another. Good 
sense — will lead persons to regard their own 
duties, rather than to recommend these cf 
others. 

Varieties. 1. Is not a true knowledge ot 
the Divine Being, the foundation of religion, 
and the corn er-stone of the church? 2. 
Every improper indulgence of the passions, 
increases their strength" for evil. 3 Few- 
seem to be aware, how much depends on the 
culture of our social nature. 4. It is a great 
happiness — to be free from suspicion; but a 
greater, to be free from offence. 5. To be 
without passion, is worse than a beast; and 
to be without reason, is worse than 'a man. 
6. The refined pleasures of a truly pious 
mind, are far superior to the coarse gratifica- 
tions of sense. 7. God gave no faculty of 
mind, or body, to men, but those which he 
meant should be exerted, and honor him in 
his design; the perversion of those faculties, 
and acting from, in, and by them, contrary 
to God's design, makes the evil, disease, and 

death. 

THE DAY OF LIFE. 

The morning hours— of cheerful light, \ 

Of all the day— are best ; \ 

But, as they speed their hasty flight, 
If every hour — be spent aright, 
We sweetly sink— to sleep— at night, 

And pleasant — is our rest. 
And life— is like a summer's day, 

It seems so quickly past : 
Youth — i3 the morning, bright, and gay , 
And, if 'tis spent in wisdom's way, 
We meet old age — without dismay, 

And death — is siceei — at last. 
Oft, the cloud, that wraps the present hour, 
Lives— but to brighten— all o\u fsture days. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



85 



S40. Pauses, aie indications of silence; 
"hey were introduced with the art of printing ; 
and it is questionable, whether they have aid- 
ed us mucli in learning to read or speak : for 
if there were no pauses, we should be com- 
pelled to exercise the mind, so far as neces- 
sary to understand the author. Pauses in 
speech, are analagous to rests in music ; and 
there are seven different kinds in each art ; all 
of which must be thoroughly understood, in 
Iheir essence, to read, write, or sing correctly. 
The true principles of notation, or pauses, 
are found only in the measure of speech, 
which is based on the philosophy of mind, 
involving the exercise of thinking and feel- 
ing. The use of pauses is to aid in making 
the sense clearer, and should be only just long 
enough to answer their end. 

341. There are two kixds of pauses, — 
Grammatical and Rhetorical. Grammatical 
pauses are distinguished by characters, and 
are addressed to the eye, as well as to the ear. 
The shortest pause is called a comma, (>) 
which indicates a silence of one second. The 
teacher is recommended to count, at every 
pause, while the pupil reads ; the same as is 
done at the rests in music ; this exercise, is 
the surest to accomplish the object. Ex. 1. 
Do to others, as you would they should do to 
you. 2. None can be a disciple of the graces, 
but in the school of virtue. 3. Be armed 
with courage, against thyself, against thy 
passions, and against thy flatterers. 4. Every 
leaf, every twig, and every drop of water, 
teems with life. 5. The colors of the rain- 
how are — violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, 
orange and red. 

$843. Examples to Illustrate the Pauses. 
The three grand degrees of all existences are 
— what is natural, human and DIVINE. 
The three grand divisions of all natural 
things are — earths, waters and atmospheres. 
The three kingdoms of nature arc — the min- 
eral, the vegetable, and the animal. The 
three divisions of the mineral kingdom are — 
the soils, the rocks, and the precious stones. 
The three divisions of the vegetable kingdom 
are — grasses, plants and shrubs, and trees. 
The three divisions of tfie animal kingdom 
are — into those that creep and walk on the 
earth, those that sivim, and those that fly. 
Each of these divisions is divided in trines ,- 
according to which, all things exist, and sub- 
sist. 

Anecdote. An agent, soliciting subscri- 
bers for a book, showed the prospectus to a 
man, who, after reading- — "one dollar in 
boards, and one dollar and twenty-Jive cents 
in sheep," — declined subscribing, as he might 
not have boards or sheep on hand, when call- 
ed upon for payment. 

The humble man, when he receives a wrong, 

Refer* revenge— to whom it doth belong. 

H 



Proverbs.. 1. A bird is known by his note 
—and a man by his talk. 2. There are many, 
who glory in their shame. 3. A good character—' 
is a badge of excellence, that cannot long be am*- 
cealed. 4. Never more, or less, than enough. 5. 
Some — rather imitate greatness, than goodness. 

6. There is misery in want, and danger in excess. 

7. Good sayings, belong to all ; evil actions only 
to their authors. 8. A knowledge of the way, is a 
good part of the journey. 9. If we go wrong, the 
farther we go, the farther we are from home. 10 
Reform yourself first, and then, others. 11. Thft 
fool — wanders; the ivise — travel. 12 Words ar< 
wind ; seeing is believing. 

Inadequacy of Language. Words — 
are poor weapons. The most beautiful verses 
— are those which we cannot express. The 
diction of every language is insufficient; and 
every day, the heart of man finds, in the de- 
licacy of his sentiments, and the imagination 
discovers — in the impressions of visible na- 
ture, things, which the mouth cannot embody 
for want of words. The heart, and the 
thought of man — are like a musician — driven 
to play infinitely varied music — on an organ, 
which has but few notes. It is sometimes 
more advisable to be silent than to speak. 
Silence — is felt by the soul, and appreciated 
by God ,- and that is enough. 

Varieties. 1. Is not the doctrine of the 
divinity, and humanity — of the Lord Jesus 
Christ, the touch-storie, by which the chris- 
tian church is to be tried? 2. The life of a 
christian — is his walk ; Christ is his way, 
and heaven — his home. 3. A coward in the 
field, is like a wise man's fool ; he does not 
know what he professes ; but a coward in the 
faith, is like a/ooZ, in his wisdom, he does not 
profess what he knows. 4. Virtue — consists 
in the faithful performance of our duty, from 
love to God, and love to man ; and vice — h: 
the neglect of our duty from a love of self 
and a love of the world. 5. The heart of a 
worthless man — is as unfixed, and change 
able, as the fitful wind. 6. The tongue may 
speak the loudest ; but the heart — the truest. 
7. Look at the form* consider the desire, and 
act, and mark the end; for thereby you inov 
know the nature of all created beings. 

This world's not " all a fleeting show, 

For man's illusion given ;" — 
He that hath sooth'd a widow' 1 ! wo, 
Or wip'd an orphan's tear, doth Know 

There's something here of Heaven. 

And he, that walks life's thorny wav. 

With feelings calm and «»<•*•, 
"Whose path is lit, from day to day, 
By virtue's bright and steady ray, 

Hath something felt of Heaven. 

He, that the christian's course hath rsfi, 

And all his foes forgiven, 
Who measures out life's little span 
In love to God— and love to man, 

On earth, hath tasted Heaven. 



/ 



86 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



343. The Semicolon — is an indication that 
we should pause long enough to count (wo, 
deliberately ; and while we are thus resting, 
from physical etlbrt, we can carry on our 
mental effort, for the purpose of producing 
the desired effect : for it is of the first impor- 
tance, in reading and speaking, to keep the 
mind employed with the thoughts and feel- 
ings; even when there is no external act; 
except it may be the play of the facial mus- 
cles. 1. Envy not the appearance of happi- 
ness in any one ; for you know not his secret 
grief. 2. The sign without the substance, is 
nothing; the substance without the sign, is 
all things. 3. None are so innocent, as not 
to be evil spoken of; none so ivicked, a«* to 
want all commendation. 4. We may kn"W 
what we will not utter ; but we should ne^er 
utter, what we do not know. 

244:. The following lines afford a good ex 
ercise, in the placing and use of the grain- 
matical pause. 

I saw a peacock with a fiery tail 
I saw a blazing star that dropt down hail 
I saw a cloud begirt with ivy round 
I saw a sturdy oak creep on the ground 
I saw a pismire swallow up a whale 
I saw the brackish sea brim fall of ale 
I saw a phial glass sixteen yards deep 
I saw a well full of men's tears to weep 
I saw man's eyes all on a flame of fire 
I saw a house high as the moon or higher 
I saw the radiant sun at deep midnight 
I saw the man who saw this dreadful sight. 
343. Natural History — involves the 
study of all the productions of nature, ani- j 
mal, vegetable and mineral ,• their qualities, ; 
relations and origin. It is divided into three \ 
kingdoms, giving rise to the corresponding ' 
sciences of Zoology, Botany and Mineralogy ; j 
which are divided into classes, orders, genera, \ 
and species, founded on prominent distinc- ' 
tiens ; in which, what most resembles the; 
tarth, are placed nearest in relation to it. 

Anecdote. " How do you know" (said a 
traveler to a poor wandering Arab of the des- 
ert,) " That there is a God ?" " In the same 
manner," (he replied,) " that I trace the foot- \ 
steps of an animal, — by the prints it leaves 
upon the sand." 
■ Nor let soft slumber — close your eyes, 

Before you've recollected thrice 

The train of actions — through the day ; 

Where have my feet — chose out the way? 

What have I learn d, where'er I've been, 

From all I've htard, from all I've seen? 

What know I more, that's worth the knowing' 

Wnat nave I done, that's worth the doing? 

What have I sought, that I should shun? 

What duly — have I left undone? 

Or into what new follies run? 

TTiesr %elf 'inquiries— are the road. 

That leads to virtue— and to God. 



Proverbs. 1. Prosperity — engenders slc'K 
2. Laziness— groivs on people; it begins vn cob- 
webs, and ends in chains. 3. Many have done a 
tcise thing ; more a cunning thing ; but very few — 
a generous thing. 4. What cannot be told, had 
better not be done. 5. No patience, no true wu- 
dom. 6. Those that are careless of themselves, can 
hardly be mindful of others. 7. Cofitentment g'.re* 
a crown, where fortune hath denied it. 8. Ha, 
who lives disorderly one year, does not enjoy him- 
self for Jive. 9. Public men, should have pubie 
minds : or private ends will be served, at the pub- 
lic cost. 10. Mildness — governs better than angm. 
11. While there is life, there is hope. 12. Good 
men — are a public good. 

Importance of Observation. The ex- 
ternal world is designed, by its Creator, to 
aid essentially in developing the human 
mind. Ten thousand objects appeal to our 
observation ; and each one is a book — of the 
most interesting character, winch can be had 
without money, and without price. But we 
must attend to the animate, as well as to the 
in-animate world, — to men, as well as to 
things. We should n#t be ashamed to ask 
for information, when we do not understand 
the whys and wherefores ; nor fail of con- 
versing with every one, who can impart to us 
useful knowledge. 

Varieties. 1. Are christians prohibited 
the proper use of any natural good] 2. 
When the honor and interest of truth are 
concerned, it is our duty to use all lawful 
means — for its support and defence. 3. Tol- 
eration — is odious to the intolerant ; free- 
dom — to oppressors; property to robbers; 
and all kinds of prosperity to the envious. 
4. General Washington was born, Feb. 22nd, 
(O. S.) 1732 ; and died, Dec. 14th, 1797, aged 
67; 21 years after the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence. 5. What is the most perfect Gov- 
ernment? that, where an injury done tlie 
meanest citizen, is considered an insult upon 
the constitution. 6. Grammar — speaks; Di- 
alectics — teach truth ; Rhetoric — gives color- 
ing to our speech ; Music — sings ; Arithme- 
tic — numbers: Geometry — weighs ; and As- 
tronomy — teaches us to know the stars. 7. 
As the Apostle saith, so it is, viz : The in- 
visible things of God, and Divine Order, 
may be seen, and understood by those thing a 
which are made, in outward creation ; evert 
his eternal power and God-head. 
Words are like leaves; and where they fosr abouad 
Much fruit of sense beneath — is rarely fcund. 
False eloquence, like the prismatic glass, 
Its gaudy colors spreads-on ev^ry place ; 
The face of Nature — we no more survey ; 
All glares alike, without distinction — gay : 
But true expression, like th' unchanging sun, 
Clears, and improves, whate'er it shines n*>on: 
It gilds — all objects, but it aiten — none. 
Expression— -is the dress of thought, and still 
Appears more decent — as more suitabit 



PRINCIPLES, OF ELOCUTION. 



87 



346. A Colon, (:) marks a pause of thre, 
seconds ; or while one can count three, delib- 
erately. Principles — are tested by their ap- 
plications but even then, we must think, as 
well as feel, and ascertain the whijs and 
wherefores. 1. Read the sacred Scriptures: 
they are the dictates of divine wisdom. 2. 
Harbor no malice in thy heart : it will be a 
viper in thy bosom. 3. Do not insult a poor 
man ■ his situation entitles him to our pit y. 
L He, that studies only man, will get the 
body without the sou I : he that studies only 
books, will get the soul, without the body : 
wisdom says, study both. 5. Partially deaf 
persons, more easily hear a moderately loud 
voice with a clear articulation, than a very 
loud one, that is rapid and indistinct : so it 
is with a weak voice, in addressing a large 
assembly. 

247. Coincidence. Washington — was 
born, Feb. 22d, 1732 , was inaugurated, 
17S9 and his term of service expired in the 
•6Gth year of his age : John Adams was bom, 
Oct 19, 1735; inaugurated, 1797; term ex- 
pired in the 66th year of his age.- Thomas 
Jefferson was bom, April 2d, 1743; inaugu- 
rated, 1801 ; term expired in the 66th year of 
lr.s age: Malison was bom, March 5th, 1751 ; 
inaugurated, 1S09; term expired in the 66th 
year of his age : Monroe was born, April 2d, 
1759; inaugurated, 1S17; term expired in 
tfie 66th year of his age : all these five presi- 
dents were men of the Revolution, and ended 
their term of service in the 66 th year of their 
age. 

218. Breathing. When we sit at our 
case, and are not exercising the voice, cur 
breathing is slow and regular; and the more 
we speak, work, or sing, the more frequently 
must we inhale fresh air ; because the expen- 
diture is greater at such times : many persons 
fall victims to this neglect ; and little is our 
primary instruction in reading calculated to 
aid us in appropriate breathing ; the results 
of which are, exceedingly bad habits, induc- 
ing impediments in vocal efforts, disease and 
death. Oh, when shall we be wise, and un- 
derstand these things! How hard to learn, 
even by experience! 

Anecdote. A Mutual Mistake. Two 
gentlemen were riding in a stage-coach ; when 
one of them, missing his handkerchief, rashly 
accused the other of having stolen it; but 
soon finding it, had the good manners to beg 
pardon for the affront ; saying it was a mis- 
take : to which the other replied, with great 
readiness, and kind feeling, " Don't be un- 
easy; it was a mutual mistake: you took 
me for a thvf ; and /took you, for a gentle- 
man ." 

It is a vain attempt 
To bind the attritions and unjust, by treaties ; 
The w — thej rluie— a thousand specious ways. 



Proverbs. 1. R'igion says — lore all; and 
hate none. 2. Observe all those rules of politeness 
at home, that you would among strangers. 3. At 
the close of each day, carefully review your con- 
duct. 4. Avoid unpleasant looks. 5. Be not over 
anxious for money. 6. Acquire the useful— first : 
the brilliant — afterwards. 7. A virtuous youth, 
will make a happy old age. 8 One ill example — 
spoils many good precepts. 9. It costs more to re- 
venge injuries, than to bear them. 10. For the 
evidence of truth, look at the truth itsetf. 11. A 
friend is known, when needed. 12. Who robe a 
scholar, robs the public. 

Experience. In early youth, while yet 
we live among those we love, we love without 
restraint, and our hearts overflow in every 
look, word and action. But when we enter 
the vjorld, and are repulsed by strangers, 
and fo?'gott en by friends, we grow more and 
more timid in our approaches, even to those 
we love best. How delightful to us, then, 
are the caresses of children I All sincerity, 
all affection, they fly into our arms; and 
then only, we feel the renewal of our first 
confidence, and first pleasure. 

Varieties. 1 . What is more revolting — 
than the idea of a plurality of Gods ? 2. An 
evil habit, in the beginning, is easily sub- 
dued; but being often repeated, it acquires 
strength, and becomes inveterate. 3. The 
bee and the serpent — often extract the same 
juices ; but, by the serpent, they are conver- 
ted into poison ; while by the bee, they are 
converted into honey. 4. He, that aims at the 
sun, will not hit it, — but his arrow will fly 
higher, than if he aimed at an object on a le- 
vel with himself. 5. Is there not a place and 
state, for every one, and should not every one 
be in his proper state and place ? 6. Those 
little words, " try" and " begin," have been 
great in their results: "leant" — never did 
anything, and never will: "III try" — has 
done wonders. " The ministry of angels — 
is that of supplying us with spiritual reasons, 
truths, and /oi'e-principles, whensoever we 
stand in need of them. 

Gold — many hunted, sweat — aijd bled for gold ; 

Waked all the night, and labored all the day : 

And what was this allurement, dost thou ask ? 

A dust, dug from the bowels of the earth, 

Which, being cast into fhefire, came out 

A shining thing, th at fools admired, and called- 

A god ; and, in devout and humble plight, 

Before it kneeled, the greater — to the less. 

And on its altar — sacrificed ease, peace, 

Truth, faith, integrity ; good conscience, friends^ 

Love, charity, benevolence, and all 

The sweet and tender sympathies of life; 

And to complete the horrid — murderous rite, 

And signalize their foUy, offered up 

Their souls, and an eternity of bliss, 

To gain them — what? an hour of dreaming joy 

A feverish hour— that hasted to be done, 

And ended— in the bitterness of us. 



88 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



BM< A Period, (.) shows thatwc should 
pause four seconds; or while we can count 
/bur, deliberately. 1. Emy no man. 2. 
Know fhy^.'f. 3. Guard against i-lleness. 4. 
Vilify no person's reputation. 5. Abhor a 
od. 6. Blessed are the poor in spirit. 
7. Jesus wept. S. Hurt not thyself. 9. Cher- 
iRh the spirit of benevolence. 10. Perform 
your duty faithfully. 11. Make a proper 
use of lime. 12. Cultivate the affections. 
13. Do good to a//. 14. lie punctual in 
your engagements. 15. Love humanity. 
6. Obey the commandments. 17. Live the 
LtttPs Prayer. IS. Be Ao/j/ SD&jtnti. 19. 
He perfect. 20. Live for immortality. 

250. Pythagoms, about five hundred 
years before the Christian era, called the mi- 
6Ze universe — by the very expressive Greek 
name, ho kostnos — the oihier, which we 
translate — the world. The Platonic school, 
afterwards, withdrawing attention from gen- 
eral nature, and fixing it on the epitome — 
Max — began to callhi?n — ho mikros kosmos, 
*.he miniature world ; or, order in miniature. 
How much useful and instructive history 
'here is in the origin of words! and it is 
gratifying to know, that these same subjects 
smployed such minds as Plato's, more than 
two thousand years ago. 

£51. The intellectual physiognomy of 
Chatham — was of a severe, and commanding 
order; his genius — was eminently practical: i 
and while no person — ever surpassed him, I 
in tl e lofty aspiration and generous enthusi- j 
asm of patriot is m,feiv have equalled him, in j 
their calm and christian application. His 
private character, — shone with a lustre, very | 
different from the unhealthy glare of political I 
fame. His correspondence — presents him un- ! 
der an engaging aspect, and enables the re a- \ 
der to admire the husband and father, not i 
iess than the statesman and the orator. 

Anecdote. The Far West. "Pray sir, j 
paid one gentleman to another, " Is not In- 
diana — the Far West?"' "Oh no sir," was ! 
the reply. " Well, is not Illinois ?" " Very 
far from it." ",Surely then, when we cross 
the Mississippi, you are in the Far West .'" 
" No. not exactly." " Where,then, is the Far 
West !"' " Why sir, it is about a half a mile 
this side of sunset." 

Beware, proud man, ihc first approach to crime. 
Indulgence — is most dangerous — nay. fatal, — 
Resist, or soon resistance is in ram. 
The first— leads to the second, then to the third 
Tiit fourth succeeds, until, familiar grown 
With vice, we start not— at our own misdeeds. 
Temptation comes, so clothed in speciousness, 
So full of seeming, we behold her not 
With apprehension, tiil her baneful pow'r 
Has wrestled with our virtue : dreadful state! 
When vice steals in, and, like a lurking thief, 
Gaps— lb*, foundation of integrity. 



Proverbs. 1. Put not off rejenuineo— till an* 
Other day. 2. Rashness— is the fruitful parent of 
misfortune. 3. Se^-exallation — is the fooVt para- 
dise. 4. Sweet is the memory — of departed worth. 
5. The covetous man — is his own tormentor, (i 
Avail yourself of the wisdom and experienct of 
others. 7. Be ambitious of excelling, that you 
may do and get the greater good. 8. The first step 
to greatness is — to be honest. 5). Truth — is the bo- 
s/5 of all excellence. 10. Unlawful love— general- 
ly oids in bitterness. 11. They that hide, can find. 
1C. A penny spared, is twice got. 

Tlie Gentleman and liis Tenant. 
A country gentleman — had an estate of 
two hundred pounds a year, which he kept 
in his own hands, till he found himself so 
much in debt, that he was obliged to sell on« 
half to satisfy his creditors, and let the re- 
mainder to a fanner for one and twenty 
years. Before the expiration of his lease, the 
farmer asked the gentleman, when he came 
one day to pay his rent, whether he would 
sell the land he occupied. " Why, will you 
purchase it 1" said the gentleman. " If you 
will part with it, and we can agreed replied 
the farmer. ''That is exceeding strange," 
said tlie gentleman. " Pray, tell me how it 
happens, that I could not live upon twice as 
much land, for wliich 1 paid no rent, and thai 
you, after regularly paying me a hundred a 
year for the half, are able, so soon, to pur- 
chase it." " The reason is plain" answered 
the farmer. " You sat still, and said, Go. 1 
stood up, and said, Come. You lay in bqfi 
and enjoyed your ease. I rose in the morn 
ing, and minded my business." 

Varieties. 1. Who should be more vir 
tuous and intelligent, than the Teacher, who 
is to educate, and form characters — for tirnt 
and eternity? 2. The happiness of every 
one— depends more on the state of his own 
ttind, than any external circumstance: nay 
mare than all external things put together. 
8. Borrowed money — maxes time stvort. 4. 
The lowest condition of life, with prudence, 
is better than the most exalted station, with- 
out it. 5. How absurd, to be complaining, 
and tormenting ourselves, for what it is im- 
possible to avoid, or attain. 6. Pause, awhile, 
ye travelers on earth, and candidates for eter- 
nity, and contemplate the universe, and tlie 
Wisdom and Love of Him who made it, 7 
Where there is no unison with God, the ontp 
source of order, love and light, there i« nei- 
ther order, or lore, or li^ht, but their oppo* 
sites. S. Art — is long, life — is short. 
How terrible — is passion.' how our reason 
Falls down before it; while the torturert/rame, 
Like a thxp — dashed by fierce encountering ti.ies 
And of her pi-at spoil'd, drives round and round. 
The sport of wind — and toave. 
Out passions — always/a/a/ counsel give ; 
Through ^fallacious giass--our wrongs — ap«A» 
Still greater— than thev are. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION 



89 



253. The Interrogation, (?) indicates a 
pause, equal to the Colon, or Period, accord- 
ing to circumstances. It is generally used as 
a sign of asking questions: though sometimes, 
it is one of the strongest modes of affirmation. 
1. Can you see? 2. Can you hear? 3. Can 
you taste ? 4. Can you smell ? 5. Can you 
feel? 6. Who are you? 7. What are you 
dams? 8. Where are you going ? 9. What 
is your destiny ? 10. Who made you? 11. 
Of what are jou thinking? 12. Whom do 
~du love? 

25 3. Among the examples above, are, the 
first rive questions, that are direct : because 
;hey admit the answer, yes, or no; all such 
interrogations require the voice to glide up- 
vjard, in asking them ; the last seven questions 
are widirect; because they do not admit the 
answer yes, or no ; all such interrogations re- 
quire the voice to glide downward,in asking 
them. You can test the theory thus: Can 
you see ? Yes ; or no. Who are you 1 Yes ; 
or no. The former — makes sense ; the latter 
nonsense. Can you hear? Yes. Can you 
taste? No. What are you doing? Yes. 
Where are you going? No. However, it 
will be seen hereafter, that the slides of the 
voice, up, or down, may be reversed — in every 
instance, and yet make good sense. 

254. Direct Question in reference to our 
Living Temples. Is not the house, in which 
we live, a very curious building] Can we 
conceive of any form — more beautiful than 
the human form, when it has not been per- 
verted, or deformed? Who knows best, we, 
or our Creator, what is the proper shape in 
which we should be] Can we mend his 
works ] Is any thing beautiful — that is not 
useful ? Were we not made right, and have 
we not, in a measure, unmade ourselves 1 Is 
not our house a very convenient one, and 
its furniture admirably adapted to the wants 
of its occupant ? Would it not be well — fre- 
quently to take a view of the form, covering, 
apartments, furniture, employments, uses 
and abuses of this wonderful house of ours ] 

Anecdote. A Challenge. After the battle 
of Actium, Mark Antony — challenged Au- 
gustus, — who disarmed him in the following 
words. " If Antony — is weary of his life, 
there are other ways of despatch, besides 
fighting him ; and for my part, I shall not 
trouble myself to be his executioner.^ 

There are some — heart-entwining hours in life, 
With sweet seraphic inspiration rife; 
When mellowing thoughts, like music on the ear, 
Melt through the soul, and revel in a tear ; 
A.nd such are they, when, tranquil and alone, 
We sit — and ponder — on long periods flown ; 
And, charmed by fancy's retrospective gaze, 
Live in an atmosphere— of other days; 
Till friends and faces, flashing on the mind, 
Cnrutal the havoc— time has left behind 

12 h2 



Proverbs. 1 Manifest no excitement, when a 
mistake is made. 2. Be sincere—- in your profes- 
sions of friendship. 3. Cultivate a pure/iearf, and 
you will have a pleasant countenance. 4. Nevel 
speak to the disadvantage of any one, unless duty 
— requires it. 5. Avoid i ght and trifling conversa- 
tion. 6. A civil answer, to a rude speech — costs but 
little, and is worth a good deal. 7. Dispel corrod- 
ing care; and consider it sinful — to give way to 
passion. 8. Charms— strike the sight; but tnerit- 
wins the soul. 9. Persons are to be estimated, ac- 
cording to their goodness, — not according to their 
dress. 10. The sincere and candid man. — has no- 
thing to conceal; for he speaks nothing but the 
truth. 11. Turn a deaf ear to angry words. 12. 
He who promises — runs in debt. 

Laconics. We esteem most things according 
to their intrinsic merit; it is strange man should be 
an exception. We prize ahorse for Ins strength and 
courage, — not for his furniture. We prize a man 
for his sumptuous palace, his great train, his vas* 
revenue; yet these are his furniture, not his mind. 

Varieties. 1. Which is the more impor- 
tout — and useful discovery, the balloon, oj 
the telegraph? 2. What is the cause of sea- 
currents ] 3. Will it take ages — to discover 
the truth ; or ages — to acknowledge it, when 
it is discovered] 4. What is meant by the 
words, a pure state of nature ? Do they not 
mean that state, in which the condition, cir~ 
cumstances, and habits of men — are in strict 
accordance with the laws of his nature ? 5. 
Is not Hip-poc-ra-tes called the Father of 
Medicine ? 6. If we are not happy, is it be- 
cause our Creator has not endowed us w ith 
the capability of becoming so ] 7 What is 
the difference — in reasoning from facts and 
experience, and reasoning from a mixture of 
truth and falsehood? Do not many — reason 
from the latter, instead of from the former? 

THE BEACON. 

The scene — was more beautiful— -far to my eye 

Than if day — in its pride — had arrayed it; 
The Jana"-breeze blewmiW, and the azure arch'dsij 

Look'd pure — as the Spirit that made i* 
The murmur rose soft, as I silently gaz'd 

On the shadowy wavers playful motion, 
From the dim distant hill, till the beacon-fire blaz'd 

Liko a star — in the midst of the ocean. 
No longer the joy of the sailer boy's breast 

Was heard in his wildly breath'd numbers, 
The sea-bird — had flown to her ware-girdled nest, 

The fisherman — sunk to his slumbers. 
One moment I look'd — from the hill's gentle slop*, 

All hush'd — was the billoiv's commotion, 
And thought — that the beacon look'd lovely as hope. 

That star — on life's tremulous ocean. 
The time — is long past, and the scene — is afar, 

Yet, when my head— rests on its pillow 
Will memory— sometimes — rekindle the stai 

That blazed — on the breast of the billow. 
In life's closing hour, when the trembling soul fhe% 

And death — stills the heart's — last emotion, 
O then — may the seraph of mercy arise! 

Like a s tar— on Eternitu's ocean. 



90 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



5*55. The exclamation Point (!) indicates 
about the same length of silence, as the In- 
terrogation: but the slide of the voice, is gen- 
erally downward, from the 6th or Sth note, 
because there is a kind of an outflowing, and 
then an indrawing of the mind, — an inflow- 
ing of the affections, that give rise to this man- 
ifestation. 1. What a beautiful Lake! 2. How 
delightful the music is ! 3. What a splendid 
piece of workmanship ! 4. How charming 
is the prospect ! 5. What a majestic sceiie ! 

6. How inimitable those strains are! 7. 
What a piece of work is man ! 8. How glo- 
rious are all the works of God! 9. What 
splendid views of heaven ! 10. How majes- 
tically — the Sun — wheels his mighty round ! 

256. Examples of Exclamation. 1. Fa- 
thers! Senators of Rome! the arbiters of na- 
tions ! to you I fly for refuge ! 2. Eternity ! 
thou pleasing, dreadful thought ! 3. Behold 
the daughter of innocence ! what a look ! 
what beauty! what sweetness! 4. Behold 
— a great, a good man ! what majesty ! how 
graceful ! how commanding ! 5. 0, vener- 
able shade ! 0, illustrious hero ! 6. Fare- 
well ! a long farewell — to all my greatness ! 

7. It stands — solid and entire ! but it stands 
alone — and it stands amidst ruins ! 8. I am 
stripped of all my honor ! I lie prostrate on 
the earth! 9. Leave me! oh! leave me to 
repose! 10. Hear me, O Lord! for thy lov- 
ing kindness is great ! 

257. Natural Theology. From the ex- 
ternal andintemal evidences afforded us, from 
creation, and the modes of existence, we as- 
sume, that man — is naturally a religious be- 
ing: the stamp of the Deity is upon him 
even before his birth ; and in every subse- 
quent stage of his existence, no matter what 
may be his social, moral or civil condition, 
that stamp — remains with him. It is not to 
be found on the Jew and Christian only, but 
on all men, in all ages,climes,and conditions 
of life. 

Anecdote. A Lawyer and Physician, 
having a dispute about precedence, referred 
the case to Di-og-e-nts, the old philosopher ; 
who gave judgment in favor of the Lawyer, 
in these words: " Let the thief go before, and 
!«t the executioner follow after." 
The rill — is tuneless — to nis ear, who feels 
No harmony within; the south wind — steals 
As silent — as unseen — among the leaves. 
Who lias no inward beauty, none perceives, 
Though all around is beautiful. Nay, more — 
In nature's calmest hour — he hears the roar 
Of winds, and flinging waves— put out the light, 
When high — and angry passions meet in fight ; 
And, his own spirit into tumuli hurled, 
He makes a turmoil — of a quiet world : 
The fiends of his own bosom — people air 
W.i kindred fiends, that hunt him— to despair. 
Not rural sights alone— but rural sounds 
F<1 otb'g the spirili. 



Proverbs. 1. Great designs, an*.' ol 
tneans — have been tl e ruin of many. 2. He, t, 
a slave to the greatest slave, who serves ncae bOJ 
himself. 3. Correct the errors of others, wh«jn yo* 
can, and inspire them with the love of goodnt* 
and truili. 4. It is the act of a base mind, to d» 
ccive, by telling a lie. 5. Liberality, — consists ^ess 
in giving profusely, than in giving judiciously. 8. 
The head and feet coot ; the rest will take little harm. 
7. We know-ice^, only what has cost us trouble to 
learn. 8. " Haste not, rest not ;" was the motto on 
Goethe's ring. 9. Keep your thoughts — close, and 
your coun-tenace — open, and you may go safely 
through the world. 10. With the humble, there is 
perpetual peace. 11. Long is the arm of the needy 
12. Poverty is an evil counsellor. 13. Delay — often 
makes one wise. 

War and Truth. A wise minister would 
rather preserve peace, than gain a victory ; 
because he knows that even the most success- 
ful war leaves a nation poor, and always more 
profligate, than before it. There are real evilf 
that cannot be brought into a list of indemnr 
ties, and the demoralizing influence of war t 
not among the least of them. The triumphs 
of truth are the more glorious, chiefly, be- 
cause they are the most bloodless of all victo- 
ries, deriving their highest lustre from the 
saved, not from the slain. 

Varieties. 1. It is the nature of truth, 
— never to force. 2. Is not the science of 
human nature, very comprehensive, as well 
as complicated and profound? 3. How can 
the mere knowledge of historical events — « 
avail to the salvation of the soul? 4. What 
is meant by the martyr Stephen, seeing the 
heavens, opened; and, John's being in the 
spirit, on the Lord's day ? 5. To see spirit' 
ual existences, must not the eyes of the un- 
derstanding be opened 1 6. There is but 
one law in being, which the Lord fulfilled, 
and went through, in the world : He passed 
through the whole circle — of both spiritual 
and natural order, and assumed all states, 
possible for man to be in, when in progression 
from the state of nature, — to that of perfect 
grace ; and by virtue thereof, can touch us — 
in all states of trial, we can possibly be in. 

'Tis the quiet hour— of feeling, 
Now— the busy day is past, 

And the twilight shadows — stealing, 
O'er the world — their mantle cast ; 

Now, the spirit, worn and saddened, 
Which the cares of day had bowed, 

By its gentle influence — gladdened, 
Forth emerges from the cloud ; 

While, on Memory's magic pages, 
Rise our long lost joys to light, 

Like shadowy forms — of oilier ages, 
From the oblivious breast of night; 

And the loved — and lost — revisit 
Our fond hearts, their place of yore, 

Till we long with them to inherit 
Realms above — to part — no more. 
The patient mind, by yielding, overcome* 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



91 



85 8. The Parenthesis ( — ) shows, that the 
words included within it, must be read, or 
tpoken, on a lower pitch, and with a quicker 
movement, than the other parts of the sen- 
tence ; as though anxious to get through with 
the explanation, or illustrative matter — con- 
tained in it; and the parenthetical clause, 
generally, has the same slide, or inflexion of 
voice, as the last word of the sentence, imme- 
diately preceding it. 1. An honest man, 
(says Mr. Pope,) is the noblest work of God. 
2. Fride, (as the Scripture saith,) was not 
made for man. 3. The Tynans were the 
first, (if we are to believe — what is told us by 
writers of the highest authority,) who learned 
the art of navigation. 4. Know ye not, 
brethren, (for I speak to them that know the 
law,) how that the law — hath dominion over 
a man — as long as he liveth ? 

359. That strong, hyperbolical manner, 
which we have long been accustomed to call 
the Oriental style of poetry, (because some 
of the earliest poetical productions — came to 
us from the East,) is, in truth, no more Ori- 
ental, than Oc-ci-den-tal ,- it is characteristic 
of an age, rather than of a country, and be- 
longs, in some manner, to all nations, at that 
period, which gave rise to music and song. 

260. Mineralogy — treats of minerals,- 
their properties, composition, classification., 
and uses. A mineral — is an organic natural 
substance, either gaseous, as air ; liquid, as 
water-, or solid, as earth and stones: it is in- 
separably connected with Geology, which 
treats of the structure of the earth, and the 
masses that compose it ; also, of the changes 
it has undergone, and to which it is still ex- 
posed ; while its practical importance is re- 
cognized in Agriculture, Mining, and En- 
gineering, it ranks with Botany and Chemis- 
try in its recondite developments, and with 
Astronomy — in the sublimity of its themes 
and results, as one of the most profound and 
interesting of the sciences. 

Anecdote. Fashion's Sake. Lord Mans- 
field, being willing to save a man, who had 
stolen a watch, directed the Jury — to bring it 
x «a value — ten pence. " Ten pence, my Lord !" 
naid the prosecutor ; " why, the very fashion 
*f it cost fifty shillings" His lordship re- 
plied, " Perhaps so ; but we cannot har* ' j. 
Ijan for fashion's sake." 

I ventrile — the pilgrim's cause, 
Yet, for the red man — dare to plead : 

We — bow to Heaveris recorded laws, 
He— turn'd to Nature — for a creed ; 

Beneath the pillar'd dome, 
We — seek our God in prayer ; 

Through boundless ivoods — he loved to roam, 
And the Great Spirit — worshiped there. 
Bui one, one fellow-throb with us he felt ; 
To one Divinity — with us he knelt — 
Freedom! the self-same freedom — we adore, 
Bo-to kim — defend his violated shore. 



Proverbs. 1. Discord— reduces strength — 1<? 

xoeakness. 2. No sweet, without some sweat : no 
pains, without some gains. 3. Whatever you dO| 
do it to some purpose; whether conquering, or 
conquered. 4. We are inclined to believe thosevre 
do not know, because they have never deceived us. 
5. Gentleness — often disarms the fierce, and mt ita 
the stubborn. 6. Stake even life, if necessary, i« 
the support of truth. 7. Listen— to the voice of 
experimental truth, and confide— in her opinion. 
ft. A good appetite — gives relish to the most hum- 
bie fare. 9. There is no secret in the heart, thai 
our actions do not disclose. 10. Where there is a 
will, there is a way. 11. True valor — is fire; 
boasting — is smoke. 

The Telescope. A spectacle-maker s boy, 
amusing himself in his father's shop, by hold- 
ing two glasses between his finger and thumb, 
and varying the distance, the weathercock of 
the church spire, (opposite them,) seemed 
to be much longer than ordinary, and appa- 
rently much nearer, and turned upside down. 
This excited the wonder of the father, and led 
him to additional experiments; and thence 
resulted that astonishing instrument, the tel- 
escope, as invented by Gal-i-Ze-o, and per- 
fected byHerschell. This is only one instance, 
among thousands, that show great effects may 
result from small causes. 

Varieties. 1. Is not prejudice — invete* 
rate, in proportion to its iirationality ? 2. 
The most delicate, and the most sensible, of 
all pleasures — consists in promoting the hap- 
piness of others. 3. Wit — sparkles as a me- 
teor, and like it, is transient; but genius — 
shines like a splendid luminary, marking 
its course in traces that are immortal. 
4. Men can have no principles, unless the}' 
are revealed to them by Deity. 5. Is there 
anything that melts — and conquers — like 
love? 6. Confessing a folly, or crime, is 
an act of judgment: a compliment — we 
rarely pass on ourselves. 7. Spiritual truth, 
is the light of heaven : the good — proper to it, 
is the heat, or love thereof; to be filled with 
both, is the perfection of life, and true salva- 
tion; conferable, only, by the Lord Jesus 
Christ, the giver of eternal life, and our Re- 
deemer and Savior. 

Besides,scAooMYiendships are not always to be found 
Though fair in promise, permanent and sound; 
The most disinterested and virtuous minds, 
In early years connected, time unbinds : 
New situations — give a diff 'rent cast 
Of habit, inclination, temper, taste; 
And he, that seem ? d our counterpart at first, 
Soon shows the strong similitude reversed. 
Young heads are giddy, and young hearts are wartn^ 
And make mistakes — for manhood to reform. 
Boys are at best, but pretty buds unblown, [known • 
Whose scent and hues — are rather guessed than 
Each — dreams that each — fs just what he appear % 
But learns his error — in maturer yean, 
When disposition, like a sail rmfurJ'd. 
Shows all its rents and patches to the 



92 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



861. The Rhetorical Pause — is dictated 
fey the thought and feeling, and is usually 
addressed only to the ear; it is here indicated 
generally, hy a dash ( — ,) and its length — 
must be determined hy the subject, and occa- 
sion; it is usually, however, about the length 
of a Semicolon, or Colon: and one thing 
must be distinctly observed, that the reader 
and speaker — is always to inhale breath — at 
every Rhetorical Pause, and generally, at 
each Grammatical Pause ; if the system be re- 
laxed, inhalation will be almost sure to take 
place. Indeed, one of the great secrets of 
reading, speaking and singing — for hours in 
succession, with effect, and without injurious 
exhaustion, consists in the proper manage- 
ment of the breath: not that there should be 
anything stiff and mechanical in the act; for 
all must be the result of the perfect freedom 
of nature. 

362. The Rhetorical Pause always occurs 
either before or after — the important word, 
or words, of a sentence : if the significant 
word or phrase, is at the beginning, this 
pause is made immediately after it; but if 
such word or phrase, is at the end of the 
sentence, the pause occurs before it. The 
design of the pause is, in the first instance, 
to produce a retrospection of mind ; and in 
the second, to excite attention and expecta- 
tion. Ex. 1. Industry — is the guardian of 
innocence. 2. Imagery — is the garb of poe- 
try. 3. To err — inhuman; to forgive — Di- 
vine. 4. Prosperity — gains friends ; adver- 
sity — tries them. b. Feelings — generate 
thoughts', and thoughts — reciprocate feel- 
ings. 6. Vanity — is pleased with admirer 
twn ; Pride — with self-esteem. 7. Dancing 
— is the poetry of motion. 8. Some — place 
the bliss in action; some — in ease; Those 
call it pleasure ; and contentment, these. 9. 
To hope for perfect happiness — is vain. 10. 
And nolo — abideth Faith, Hope, Charity; 
these three; but the greatest of these is — 
Charity. 

2G3. Individuals of both sexes, often com- 
plain of a very unpleasant sensation at the 
pit of the stomach ; some call it a u death-like 
feeling ;" others speak of it as if " the bottom 
bad fallen out :" one of the principal causes is 
a want of the proper action of the breathing 
"^oaratus: the abdominal and dorsal mus- 
cles become relaxed, by wrong positions and 
want of appropriate exercise and food ; when 
their contents fall by their own weight, and 
the diaphragm does not, consequently, act in 
a healthy m inner. The remedy is a return 
to the laws if life and being, as here exhi- 
bited. 

Conscience— distasteful truths may tell, 
But mark her sacred dictate — well ; 
Whoever — with her — lives at strife, 
their bitter friend— for Ufe. 



Proverbs. 1. Pride— is the otTspr ngof/bJ/j 
and the plague of fools. 2. A bad man's dislike, 
is an honor. 3 The censure — of some persons- 
is praise; and their praise, condemnation — in 
the eyes of the world. 4. It is a base thing — to lie ; 
truth — alone, becomes the ingenuous mmd. 5. 
Riches — either serve or rule, every one who posses 
ses them ; and thus, they are either blessings, or 
curses. 6. In cases where doubt exists, always 
lean to the side of mercy. 7. Poets — are bom such ; 
orators — are made such. 8. Malice — is a mean, 
and deceitful enginj of mischief. 9. Nature — is 
superior to Art : have faith in her, and success is 
yours. 10. All rules and principles, to be of use, 
must be understood, and practiced. 11. The offen- 
der — rarely pardons. 12. Might too often makes 
right. 13. Truth lias a good basis. 

Anecdote. Wl.en the painter, Leo-nar- 
di da Vinci, lay upon his death-bed, the king 
came to see njn ; and out of respect, he rais- 
ed himself from the pillow ; but the effort 
being too great, he fell back ; when the king 
caught him, and he expired in his firms. 
The king was much affected with the event, 
and left the chamber in tears ; when his no- 
bles — endeavored to soothe him, saying, — 
" Consider, lie was only a painter." " Yes, 
yes," replied the monarch, "I do; and though 
I could make a thousand — such as you, yet 
God alone can make such a painter, as Leo- 
nardi." 

Justice. How many tediou? ana ruinous 
law-suits — might have been avoided, had the 
parties concerned — patiently examined the 
facts, with coolness and deliberation; in- 
stead of giving way to the blindness of inter- 
est and to passion, by which mutual hatreds 
have been generated, or blood spilled, — when 
a generous search after truth, and a love of 
justice — would have prevented all the evil. 

Varieties. 1. What is requisite — for the 
right formation of character ? 2. The true 
disciples of nature — are regardless wlw ac- 
companies them, provided she be the leader : 
for nature, like truth, is immutable. 3. 
There is no pride — equal to theirs, who rise 
from poverty — to riches ; for some — have 
even forgotten their own- relations. 4. That 
form of government is best, which is best 
adapted to the state of the people, and best 
administered. 5. Cyrus, when young, be- 
ing asked — what was the first thing to be 
learned; replied, — To speak the truth. 6. 
The orator's field — is the universe of mind 
— and matter : and his subjects — all that vt 
— and can be known — of God — and man, 
7. Every aspiration, desire, and thought — 13 
heard and accepted — in heaven, when we sur- 
render our wivole life to the Lord's govern* 
ment and providence. 

Gather the rose-buds— while ye may, 

Old Time— is still a- flying ; 
And that same ./tower, that blooms to-day, 
To-morwit, —shall Ne dying. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



93 



261. Miscellaneous Examples of all 
the Pauses. The pupil must not rely too 
much on these exter.ml indications of silence ; 
for they are only general rules : hence the 
necessity of being governed by the prompt- 
ings and guidance of his own feelings and 
thoughts, after bringing them in subjection 
to goodness and truth ; of which reason — 
always approves. 1. The ostestatious, fee- 
ble, harsh, or obscure style, is always faulty; 
and perspicuity, strength, neatness, and sim- 
plicity — are oeawties — ever to be aimed at. 

2. Be wise to-day, 'tis madness to defer ; 
next day — -the fatal precedent will plead. 
Thus on, till wisdom — is pushed out of life. 

3. How noble 'tis, to own a fault ; how ge- 
nerous, — and divine — to forgive it ! 4. Who 
can forbear to smile with nature ? Can the 
stormy passions — in the bosom roll, while eve- 
ry gale — is peace, and ev'ry grove — ismelody ? 

265. 1. The evidence — that truth carries 
with it, is superior to all argument, and mira- 
cles : and it wants neither the support, nor 
dreads the opposition, of the greatest abil- 
ities. 2. True modesty is ashamed to do 
what is repugnant to reason, and common 
sense ; false modesty — to do what is oppos- 
ed to the humor of the company ; true mo- 
desty avoids whatever is criminal ; false 
modesty — whatever is unfashionable. 3. 
Some — live within their means ; some live up 
to their means — and some — live beyond their 
means. 4. " To what party do you be- 
long?" sasd a noisy politician, to one whose 
s*ul — grasped the interests of his whole coun- 
try, " To what party do I belong ?" replied 
the patriot; " I belong to no party, but my 
country's party." 

Punctuate the following, by reading it correctly. 
There is a lady in this land 
Has twenty fingers on eacli hand 
Five and twenty on hands and feet 
All this is true without deceit. 

266. Botany — treats of plants — their 
structure, growth, classification, description, 
localities and uses. They are organized bo- 
dies, and endowed with life; but they dif- 
fer from animals, in wanting sensation and 
voluntary motion : they differ from minerals, 
in possessing life; and they contain organs, 
by which they assimilate new matter to in- 
crease their substance, and promote their 
growth. The study of botany is highly in- 
teresting and useful ; not only on account 
of the beauty and variety of plants, but of the 
important purposes to which they may be 
applied in sustaining life and curing disease: 
it is necessary to aid in the development of 
body and mind. 

Anecdote. One day, when the moon 
was under an eclipse, she complained thus 
to the sun for the discontinuance of his fa- 
vor; "My dearest friend," said she, "why do 
you not shine upon me as you used to do ?" 
"Do I not shine upon thee ?" said the sun ; 
" 1 am very sure I intend it." " O no," re- 
plied the moon : "but now I see the reason; 
that dirty planet, the earth, has got between 



Proverbs. 1. By d>f erring our repentance — 
we accumulate our sorrows. 2. Complaisance — 
readers a superior — amiable, an equal — agreea- 
ble, and an inferior — acceptable. 3. A wound giv- 
en by a word, is often harder to be c-ur&i, than one 
made by the sword. 4. The human form is the 
noblest, and most perfect, of which we can con- 
ceive. 5. Intentions, as well as actions, must be 
good,Xo be acceptable. 6. Every scene in life, is a 
picture; of which some part is worthy of aUe*i>- 
tion. 7. Receive instruction with gratitude. 6. To 
such as are opposed to truth, it seems harsh artd 
severe. 9. Never reproach another for doing wrong; 
unless you are sure he has done it. 10. Knowledge, 
to be a good thing, must be rightly applied. 11. lie- 
plies — are not always answers. 12. A chaste eyt 
— banishes evil desires. 13. Respect and contempt, 
spoil many a one. 

Refinement. It is a doubt, whether the 
refinements of modern times have, or have 
not, been a drawback upon our happi?iess: 
for plainness and simplicity of manners have 
giyen way to etiquette, formality, and de- 
ceit; whilst the ancient hospitality has no\* 
almost deserted our land ; and what we ap 
pear to have gained in head, we seem to 
have lost in heart. 

Varieties. J What is the difference be- 
tween the ?.?2ternal and external man? be- 
tween an mternal and external state oimind t 
2. Love to God and love to man, — is the 
life and soul, of all sound philosophy; con- 
sequently, no one can become a philosopher, 
who is not a good 'man. 3. Riches, and 
cares, are generally inseparable; and whoevei 
would get rid of one, must become divested 
of the other. 4. The acquirement of useful 
knowledge, — is often difficult and trouble 
some ; but perseverance — will reward us foi 
our toil. 5. If we regard our present views 
— as an infallible test of truth, whatever 
does not conform to them, we set down as 
false, and reject it. 6. Ignorance of a fact 
— may excuse; but not ignorance of the law 
— which every one is supposed to be ac- 
quainted with. 7. Man's will, and under- 
standing, — are receptacles of life, not life 
itself; as is the reception, such is the persua- 
sion, faith, wisdom, light, and love. 
I care not, Fortune ! what you me deny ; 
You cannot rob me of free nature's grace; 
You cannot shut the windows of the sky, 
Thro' which Aurora shows hep bright'ning face : 
You cannot bar my constant feet — to trace 
The wood and lawns, by living stream at eve : 
Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, 
And I their toys — to the great children leave : 
Of fancy, reason, tirtue — nought can me bereave. 
Another day — is added to the mass 
Of buried ages. Lo ! the beauteous moon, 
Like a fair shepherdess, now comes abroad, 
With her full flock of stars, that roam around 
The azure meads of heaven. And O how charmed^ 
Beneath her loveliness, creation looks ! 
Far-gleaming hills, and light-inweaving stream*, 
And sleeping boughs, with dewy lustre clothed, 
And green-haired valleys — all in glory dressed,— 
Make up the pageantry of night 



i>4 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



267. Delivery and Painting. There 
is a striking analogy or correspondence, be- 
tween painting and delivery. We have, what 
are called, seven primary colors, and seven 
pitches of sound — though strictly speaking, 
but three of each. Letters are uii-compound- 
ed paints; words like paints, prepared for use; 
and, when these words are arranged into pro- 
per sentences, they form pictures on the 
canvas of the imagination. Let the follow- 
ing beautiful landscape be sketched out in 
the mind: " On a mountain, (stretched be- 
neath a hoary willow) lay a shepherd swain, 
— anu view'd the rolling billow." Now 
Tstiew it; and see every thing as it is — the 
mountain covered with trees; the shepherd, 
reclining under the willow tree, with his 
flock nearby, some feeding, and some lying 
down; and what is he doing ? Looking out 
upon the ocean, covered with pleasure boats, 
vessels, &c. In this way, you may behold, 
with the mind's eye, (for the mind has its 
eye, as well as the body,) the ideas of the au- 
thor ; and then picture out whatever you 
hear and read, and give to it life, habitation, 
and a name; thus you will see the thoughts, 
receive the light, and catch, or draw out their 
latent heat; and having enlightened and warm- 
ed your own mind, you will read and speak 
from your ow?i thoughts and feelings, — and 
transfer the living, breathing landscapes of 
your mind to others, and leave a perfect 
daguerreotype likeness on the retina of their 
mind's eye : you feel. and think, and there- 
fore speak ; and thus you can memorize, so 
as not to forget : for you will have it by 
heart. 

268. l*a Fayfette. I see the marshals 
of Napoleon (gorged with the plunder 0? Eu- 
rope, and stained with its blood) borne on their 
flashing chariot-wheels — through the streets 
of Paris. I see the ministers of Napoleon 
filling the highest posts of trust and honor — 
under Louis the XVIII. ; and I see the friend 
of Washington, {La Fayette,) glorious in his 
noble poverty, looking dovm from the calm 
and placid height of his consistency and his 
principles, — on their paltry ambition, and its 
more paltry rewards. 

Anecdote. Means of Happiness. Socra- 
tes, when asked his opinion of the king of 
Persia, and whether he judged him happy. — 
replied, "he could not tell what to think 
of him ; because, he knew not how much he 
was furnished with virtue and learning.''' 1 

Magic, wonder-beaming eye ; 
In thy narrow circle — lie 
All our varied hopes — and fears, 
Sportive smiles — and graceful tears; 
Eager wishes, — wild alarms, 
Rapid feelings, — potent charms, 
Wit and genius, taste and sense, 
Sud through thee— their intltjence. 

When lovers meet — in adverse hour, 

Tis like the sun-glimpse— through the shower, 

A watery ray — an instant seen, 

The darkly charging clouds — between. 



Proverbs. 1. The act — does not censtira* 
guilt in the eye of the law so much as the design. 2. 
A certain degree of modesty and reserve, ui young 
persons, is a sure passport to the good will of their 
superiors. 3. The diligent and industrious — ge- 
nerally prosper; while the indolent — pine in want. 
4. Keep your passions in subjection ; for unless 
they obey you, they will govern you. 5. In im- 
parling to a friend — a knowledge of our mitfor- 
tunis, wo often feel them lightened. 6. The body 
may be enslaved; but no human power can con- 
trol the mind, without its consent. 7. A fowery 
path — is not that which conducts us to glory. 3. 
Let us use, not abuse — the good things of life. 9. 
A good reputation — is-preferable to a girdle of gold. 

10. Lofty towers — tumble with a tremendous crash. 

11. Dig not your grave with the teeth. 12. April 
showers, make May fiowers. 

Enjoyment. When I walk the streets, 1 
use the following natural maxim, viz. that he 
is the true possessor of a thing who enjoys it 
and not he that owns it without the enjoy- 
ment of it ; to convince myself that I have a 
property in the gay part of all the gilt chari- 
ots that I meet, which I regard as amuse- 
ments, designed to delight my eyes, and the 
imagination of those kind of people, who sit 
in them, gaily attired, only to please me. 1 
have a real, and they only an imaginary, plea- 
sure from their exterior embellishments. 
Upon the same principle, I have discovered 
that I am the natural proprietor of all the 
diamond necklaces, the crosses, stars, bro- 
cades, and embroidered clothes, which I see 
at a play or birth-night, as giving more natu- 
ral delight to the spectator, than to those that 
wear them. And I look on the beaux and 
ladies, as so many parouuels in an aviary, or 
tulips in a garden, designed purely for my 
diversion. A gallery of pictures, a cabinet, 
or library, that I have free access to, I think 
my own. In a word, all that I desire is the 
use of things, let who will have the keep 
ing of them. By which maxim I am grown 
one of the richest men in the world ; with 
this difference, that I am not a prey to my 
own cares, or the envy of others. 

Varieties. 1. Can we be responsible, 
without being endowed whh freedom, and ra 
tionality? 2. Perfect freedom is the birth' 
right of man, and heaven forbid that any hu- 
man authority should infringe upon it ; but 
in the exercise of this right, let us be humble 
and discreet, and never do wrong. 3. If the 
roots be left, the grass will groxo again. 4. 
Brutes — have a language peculiar to them- 
selves ; so have deaf and dumb persons. 5. 
There are merchants— with the sentiments, 
and abilities, of statesmen ; and there are per- 
sons in the ranks of statesmen, with the con- 
ceplions and characters of pedlars. 6. The 
natural world is a world of dreams; for no 
thing is — as it appears ; but the spiritual 
world — is a world of realities, where we shall 
see as we are seen, and know — as we are 
known. 7. The granary— of all heavenly 
seed, is the Word of God; the ground — is 
our will, in which that seed must be sown. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



869. This Word - Painting, being a sub- 
ject of such great importance, and one that 
is inseparably connected with emphasis, we 
will dwell upon it a little longer, and apply 
it practically ; for — unless we get into the in- 
ternals of the subject, all our efforts will be 
nearly unavailing. A very good way to 
perfect ourself in this style of painting, is — to 
close the eyes, after having memorized the 
words, (or get some one to read them delibe- 
rately,) and infix the thoughts and feelings 
of the author in the mind, and let there be a 
commingling of them with your own, in such 
a way, that there will be an entire re-produc- 
tion, and re-formation of them, — a new crea- 
tion. The effect of this kind of exercise on 
the mind, will be like that of the warm sun, 
and refreshing rain, in developing and per- 

. fecting vegetation. 

THXJNDIR STORM OX THE ALPS. 

Far along 
From peak to peak, the rattling crags among, 
Leaps the live thunder ! not from one lone cloud, 
But every mountain — now, hath found a tongue, 
And Jura — answers through her misty shroud, 
Back to the joyous Alps, who called aloud. 
Thy spirit — Independence, — let me share, 
Lord of the lion heart — and eagle eye ! 
Thy steps I follow, with my bosom hare, 

Nor heed the storms that howl across the sky, 
Tm greatly wise. — to talk with our past hours, 
And ask Iheni— what report — they bore to heaven ; 
And how they might have borne— more welcome news ; 
Their answers — form — what men— experience call. 

870. Chemistry — treats of the composi- 
tion of all material substances, their sensible 
properties and relations, and the effects pro- 
duced upon them — by cohesion., affinity, light, 
heat, and electricity. Its study — reflects light 
upon all these effects, and is subsidiary to the 
natural and medical sciences : indeed, its ap- 
plication extends throughout the wider range 
of all the physical arts,- and hence, ranks 
among the most useful of the sciences. If the 
fair sex — would understand this subject, only 
so far as it relates to Aouse-keeping, they 
would see, that there is no necessity of hav- 
ing poor soap, or bad bread, or of making 
other mistakes in their culinary preparations. 

Anecdote. Mad Man. A man, who was 
apparently more of a wit — than a mad-ma.n, 
but who, notwithstanding, was confined in a 
jn ad-house, being asked how he came there, 
answered — "Merely a dispute of words,- I 
eaid that all men were mad; and all said 
J was mai ; the majority — canned the point, 
and here i am." 

Walls of brass— resist not 
A noble undertaking, — nor can vice — 
Raise any bulwark — to make good a place, 
Where virtue — seeks to enter. 

Lovers say, the heart— hath treble wrong, 
When it i3 barred— the aldance of the tongue 



Proverbs. 1. He, whose expenditure is nu»r* 
than his income, must be poor; but he that receive* 
more than he spends, must be rich. 2. What 
some speakers fail in, as to depth, they >take up 
as to length. 3. Money, earned with little 'abor, is 
generally sptnt with little consideraiu*. •>.. We 
often lose those things that are certain., while we 
pursue others that aro dovbti'd. 5. He, who 
knows nothing, doubts nothhv*. 6. Many per- 
sons feel an irreconciiable enmity — towards Uaose 
whom they have injured. 7. Without sweat and 
labor, no work 13 perfected. 8. Accumulated 
wealth — brings care, and a thirst for increasing 
riches. 9. Whether in prosperity, or adversity^ 
we should always endeavor to preserve equa- 
nimity. 10. Do not grieve for tnai which is irre- 
coverably lost. 11. Use soft words, and hard 
arguments. 12. A full purse never lacks friends. 

Dissimulation. Dissimulation in youth, 
is the forerunner of perfidy in old age ; its 
first appearance — is the fatal omen of grow- 
ing depravity, and future shame. It degrades 
parts and learning, obscures the lustre o* 
every accomplishment, and sinks us into con- 
tempt. The path of falsehood is a perplexing 
maze. After the first departure from sin- 
cerity, it is not in our power to stop ; one ar- 
tifice unavoidably leads on to another; till, 
as the intricacy of the labyrinth increases, we 
are left entangled in our snare. 

VAIUETIES. 

Pain — is perfect misery, the icorst of evils ; 

And excessive, overturns all patience. 

'Tis base — to change with fortune, and deny 

A faithful friend, because in poverty. 

Who lives to nature,— rarely can be poor ; 

Who lives to fancy, never can be rich. 

Music — resembles poetry ; in each — 

Are nameless graces, which no methods teach- 

And which a master's hand alone — can reach 

Bright-eyed fancy — hovering o'er, 

Scatters — from her pictured urn, 

Thoughts — that, breathe, and words — that burn 

If good — we plant not, vice — will fill the place, 

And rankest weeds — the richest soil — deface. 

But the good man, whose soul is pure, 

Unspotted, and of pardon — sure, 

Looks tAro' the darkness of the gloomy night, 

And sees the dawning — of a glorious light. 

Would you taste the tranquil scene ? 

Be sure your bosom — be serene ; 

Devoid of hate, devoid of strife, 

Devoid of all that poisons life. 

Animuch it 'vails you— in their place, 

To graft the love — of human race. 

How deep — yon azure — dyes thfc sky, 

Where orbs of gold — unnumbertd '!?:, 

While, through their ranks, in s5>er priit. 

The nether crescent — seems to glifol 

Thou sun, said I, fak light I 
And thou, enlightened earth, so fr«h and gay 1 
Ye hills and dales, ye rivers, wotft, and ptain*. 
And ye that live, and move, fair creatures, telU 
Tell if you can, how came I thus v Ww heret 



96 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



371. Rttiim — poetical measure, or verse; 
of winch there are various kinds. Prose — is 
man's natural language, which is rather 
loose and unconfined. Poetry — originates in 
the affections, prose in the thoughts, of the 
human mind; tho' some poems are occasion- 
ally prosaic, and some prose — poetic : feel- 
ing predominates in the former, — thought, 
in the latter. Our rules for reading and 
speaking are the same, whether in prose or 
jvetry : for in all cases, the manner must be 
adapted to the matter ; the sound to the 
sense: hi other words, the mind's perception 
and feeling of the matter, must dictate the ap- 
propriate manner ; " suit the action to the 
ward, the word to the action ; and o'erstep 
not the modesty of nature." 
Yon cloud is bright, and beautiful — it floats 
Alone in God's horizon; on its edge 
The stars seem hung iike pearls: it looks as pure 
As 'twere an angel's shroud, — the white cymar 
Of purity, just peeping through its folds 
To give a pitying look — on this sad world. 
Go visit it, and find, that all is false ; 
Its glories — are but fog, and its white form 
Is plighted to some coming thunder-gust ; — 
Tlie rain, the wind, the lightning, have their source 
In such bright meetings. Gaze not at the clouds, 
however beautiful. Gaze at the sky, 
The clear, blue, tranquil, fixed, and glorious sky. 

272. Agriculture — is the art of cultiva- 
ting the ground ; it includes, also, the rear- 
ing and management of domestic animals; 
it is sometimes called Farming, and Hus- 
bandry: and, although simple in its opera- 
tions, it derives great benefit from Machinery, 
—whence it takes its implements,- from 
Chemistry, — whence it derives a knowledge 
of soils, and the means of fertilizing them; 
from Botany, — which teaches a knowledge of 
the plants — to be cultivated or destroyed; 
and from Zoology — which teaches the habits 
and peculiarity of the animals it rears, and 
the means of improving them for use — and 
profit. 

Anecdote. Kosciusko, the hero of Poland, 
wishing to make a present to a Clergyman, 
sent it by a young man, and desired him to 
take the horse, which he himself usually rode. 
_)n his return, the young man said — he 
would never ride his horse again, unless he 
gave his purse at the same time ; for, said he, 
" as soon as a -poor man on the road takes off 
his hat, and asks charity, the horse immedi- 
ately stops, and will not stir, till something- 
is given the petitioner ,- and as I had but lit- 
tle monev with me, I was obliged, when it 
was gone,tx> feign giving something, in order 
to satisfy the horse." 

Cursed be your senate ; cursed your constitution ; 
The curse of growing factions— and divisions- 
Still vex your councils, shake your public safety, 
And make the rtbes of government— you wear, 
Vateful to you, »ve these chains are— to me. 



Proverbs. 1. Truth— is but another ;ia«*e 
fact. 2. There is a mental, as well as civil com- 
monwealth. 3. The end of learning, is useful- 
ness, — not reputation. 4. Study the principles of 
things,— as well as their uses. 5. Common sense 
—which is very un- common, is the best sen.sa 
in the world. G. JVo one can hit a mark, without 
aiming at it ; and skill t's acquired, by repeated 
attempts. 7. Never do anything with indifference; 
and do everything as perfectly as possible. 8. 
Never cut out a piece of a newspaper, till you 
have looked on the other side. 9. In prosperity, 
— prepare for a change; in adversity, — hope for 
one. 10. Haste— is a poor apology ; take time, and 
Co your work icell. 11. Personal efforfcj-seldom 
fails to obtain its object. 12. Some people never 
have enough. 

Autumn. It was a glorious day in au- 
tumn. The sky, of unsullied blue, glowed 
like a sapphire. The universal air — was fill- 
ed with stillness. Not a breeze whispered — 
not a bird flapped its wing. It was the tri- 
umph of repose — when the undying energies' 
of man — slumbered for a moment, — when 
even the conflict of his passions was suspend- 
ed. Beautiful, melancholy autumn ! whose 
ruddy ripeness — whispers of decay; whos« 
richest tints — mingle with the " sear and yel 
low leaf," as if the lusty year — had toileu. 
through youth and manhood for wealth, 
which overflows, just when waning life — in- 
dicates, that the power of enjoyment — is paw- 
ing away. 

Varieties. 1. What is the difference — 
between reading and reflection ? 2. To look 
away from principles, and see only their ap- 
plication, tends to idolatry. 3. Suspicion is 
the effect — of the association of ideas — mis- 
directed by the imagination; it never exists 
— without a shade of insanity. 
Tho' deep, yet clear ; tho' gentle, yet not dull , 
Strong, without rage,— without o'erfioicing—fubl. 
5. In what manner- is uniformity in events 
— depending, apparently, on contingent cir- 
cumstances, to be accounted for? 6. Qnly 
by appealing to first principles — can we ri> 
cover, or maintain — the spirit and essence, 
of genuine wisdom, and intelligence. 7 The 
greatest degree — of self-abasement, Ureal, ii 
the nearest approach to the Divine Presence. 
Jfay, shrink not— from the word "Farewell," \ 
As if 'twere Friendship's final knell : 

Such fears— may prove but vein : 
So changeful— is life's fleeting day, 
Whene'er we sever, Hope may say, 

We part, to meet again. 
Even the last parting— earth can know, 
Brings not unutterable wo 

To souls, that heavenward soar ; 
For humble Faith, with steadfast eye, 
Points to a brighter world on high, 
Where hearts, that here— at parting sigh, 

May meet, — to part no more. 
Dutiet -are ours; consequences — are CroeTl 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



9T 



873. The three philosophical divisions of 
poetry (as well as of Prose) in relation to the 
mind, are — RELIGIOUS, having reference 
to the supreme Being, and what is above us 
in the scale of creation; the social and ci- 
vn, or middle; what is around us, and 
within, relating to the great family of man : 
and the external, which refers, principally, to 
the kingdom of Nature, which is below us; 
vix. the animal, vegetable, and mineral: (do 
not include mankind in the animal king- 
dom; they are human; it is sensualism 
which has degraded man to rank with ani- 
mals.) The common divisions of Poetry are 
— Pastoral, Lyric, Didactic, Satire, Sonnets, 
Descriptive, Epic, Tragic, and Comic; to winch 
some add, Sacred, Classic, Romantic, Elegiac, 
Mythologic, Eclogue, Ballad, and Epitaph. 

!i 7*. Management of the Breath. From 
what we have said, you see the importance 
of attending to this subject. Very few per- 
sons — breathe sufficiently often, when read- 
ing, speaking, or singing. All the directions 
the author has seen on this subject — are at 
variance with truth and nature. There are 
a few instances, w r hen a long breath is neces- 
sary ; but they are very rare. To acquire a 
long breath, exercise on all the difficulties of 
respiration, — and pursue a similar course 
for strengthening a weak voice ; also, practice 
long quantity, walking up hill, and running, 
when reciting. In the following, breathe at 
least once, while reading each period. " He 
died young, (breathe,) but he died happy. 
His friends have not had him long, (breathe,) 
but his death — ( breathe ) is the greatest 
trouble and grief, (breathe,) they ever had. 
He has enjoyed the sweets of the world — 
(breathe,) only for a little while, (breathe,) 
but he never tasted its bitters" The writer 
is aware of being, in this respect, in opposi- 
tion to authorities ; but he cannot be influ- 
enced by that, so long as he is persuaded that 
truth and nature are with him. If one does 
not breathe sufficiently often, he will be al- 
most sure to speak too rapidly : and, as the 
object of Elocution is — to convince and per- 
suade, how can one expect to do this, if he 
does net give his hearers time to think, or 
reason, about what he says'! How can a 
jury — keep pace with a lawyer, whose lan- 
guage rides post-haste'.' If his reason, and 
arguments, are hurled upon the ear, like 
flashes of lightning upon the eye, how can 
they be remembered, or produce the intended 
effect ? If one does not breathe at the proper 
times and places, the sense is not fully con- 
veyed, and the lungs are injuriously affected. 
Too unfrequent breathing, and rapid speak- 
ing, must be avoided; but beware of the op- 
posite extreme, unless you wish to lull your 
heaisrs to sleep. 

Ask of inotber eartli— whv oalcs— were made — 
Taller aid s*nm.jrsr— than' the xveaLs they shade. 
BRONSON 7 



Proverbs. 1. Never begin things, «md then 
leave them unfinished. 2. Have a placi for every 
thing : and when you have usci it, put it back 
again. 3. Proverbs — bear age ; and he, who would 
do well, may see himself in them, as in a looking- 
glass. 4. Politeness — costs nothing, and may do 
much good. 5. Tcdiousness — is often fatal to our 
object. 6. "Where there is no hope, there is no en- 
deavor. 7. Unequal friendsliips — are easily dis- 
solved. 8. Sloth — consumes faster than labor. 9- 
Lost time — is never found again ; and time enough 
yet, is always little enough. 10. Industry— payt 
debts; despair — increases them. 11. Troops of fu- 
ries*— march in the drunkard's triumph. 12. Sue 
cess — consecrates the foulest crimes. 

Anecdote. The Boys and Frogs. L'JSs 
trangc tells us, in Ins fables, that a number 
of boys were one day watching frogs at the 
side of a pond ; and that when any of them 
put their heads above the water, the boys 
pelted them down again, with stones. One 
of i the frogs, appealing to the humanity of 
the boys, made this striking observation,— 
" Children, you do not consider, that though 
this may be sport to you, it is death to us.'' 

Folly and Wisdom. Many parents — 
labor hurd, and live sparingly, that they may 
give their children a start in the world : but 
setting a son afloat with money left to him — 
is like tying bladders under the arms of Oiie 
who cannot swim ; and ten to one he will 
drown ; but teach him to swim, and he will 
never need bladders: give a child a good edu- 
cation, and it will give him such a start — as 
will secure usefulness and victory in the race 
he is to run. 

Varieties. 1. Is it possible — fox o. created 
being to merit any thing — at the hands of 
God ? 2. The instincts of animals — are their 
laws of life; they seem to be sensible of their 
ends of being, and the means of attaining 
them. 3. Truth — is that resemblance to, or 
conformity with Nature, that is presented to 
the mind, by the relation of ideas, whether 
simple, or complex. 4. There is a divinity — 
shapes our ends, rough hew them as we will. 
5. 'Tis better, to be lowly born, and range 
with humble livers — in content, than to be 
pricked up — in glittering grief, and wear a 
golden sorrow. 6. Whatever is seen, by the 
bodily eye, or perceived by the outward senses, 
is but an effect — from the spiritual ivorld,i\rf 
a true representative of some principle tlv«w». 
in, and proper to it ; for that world is in ih* 
human soul, — and mind. 

I ramble — by the eveinng sea 
The light-house — glimmering from afa: 

And fleecy clouds — are scouring free 
O'er rising moon, and twinkling star; 

In distance — floats the waning sail, 
Or brightly gleams the plashing oar, 

And mingles — with the shining gale 
The billow — murmuring on the shore , 

But one thing wants the wanderer there - 

A kindred soul, the scene to share- 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



S75. Cmplmsig. This is a very impor- 
tant p:irt of our subject ; and unless the pu- 
pil is certain, that, he perfectly understands 
■Accent, he is advised to review it again. Ac- 
cented syllables, are to other syllables, in the 
»ame word, what emphatic syllables, are to 
•words in the same sentence, — hence, it may 
be seen, that as the idea — is always associa- 
ted with the accented vowel, and changes, 
when the seat of accent is changed ; as in 
jiu-gust, and au-gust ; so, the mind's eye — 
always accompanies the emphatic word Ex. 
Doctor Johnson, (says Cicero,) was a great 
orator. Thus emphasised, we make Cicero 
say. that Dr. Johnson — was a great orator. 
Corrected, thus: Dr. Johnson says — Cicero 
was a great orator. Practice on this sentence, 
till every thing appertaining to correct em- 
phasis is familiar. All the words in this 
book, printed in different type, are more or 
less emphatic: and some are emphatic that 
are in the common type. 

376. Emphasis — is an increase of accent 
on the accented vowels of important words, 
the more perfectly to convey the sense of the 
author. There are only two ways of ma- 
king it : which are the same as in accent ; viz : 
by stress and quantity. First, by stress : 
Ex. 1. The difference — between what is true 
— and false, good — and evil, is very great. 

2. Some reports — are true: others — axe false. 

3. Truth tells us, that certain affections — 
are evil : but False says, they are good. 4. 
Good men — love, and practice, what is good 
and true ; but wicked men — love, and prac- 
tice, what is false, and evil. 5. Heaven — 
consists of all that is good and true; but 
Hell — consists of all that is false, and evil. 

2T7. Horticulture — or Gardening, is 
the art of preparing and cultivating gardens, 
including pleasure-grounds, and ornamental 
shrubbery : its close relation to Agriculture, 
renders it difficult to distinguish between 
them. As involving principles of taste, and 
elements of beauty, it may be classed with 
the Fine Arts; but its connection with the 
Useful Arts — presents a stronger relation; 
and, whether considered in reference to use- 
fulness, or ornament, it deservesjnuch at- 
tention, and exerts a salutary influence over 
its votaries. 

Anecdote. Working a Passage. An 
Irishman, ha ving applied to work his passage 
on a canal-boat, and being employed to lead 
the horses on the tow-path ; on arriving at the 
place of destination, declared he would sooner 
go on foot, than work his passage in America. 
Honest index — of the soul, 
Nobly scorning all control, 
Silent language— ever flowing, 
Every secret thought avowing, 
Pleasure's seat, — Love's favorite throne, 
Evr-y triumph is thy own. 



Proverbs. 1. Every net of violence :-leadl 
to difficult restate. 2. The house of a true friend - 
is always a sure asylum. 3. It is sweet — to sooihe 
the ivretched, and mitigate their misfortunes 4 Hi 
has done tlie mischief, and I bear the blaxw. 5. 
It is common to fools — to mention their neighbor^ 
faults; while they are forgetful of their own. 6 
Endeavor to conquer adverse circumstances ; and 
not submit to them. 7. It is wise — to derive know 
ledge, even from an enemy. 8. He, who flies front 
judgment, confesses the crime imputed to him. 9. 
We are generally willing to believe — wiat we 
wish to be true. 10. Let justice be done, tho' ;'h« 
heavens fall. 11. The more riches a fool has, tho 
foolisher he is. 12. When the heart— is past Jiope, 
the face— is past shame. t3. Despair— has ruined 
many a one. 

Philosophy of Mind. No philosophy of 
the mind can be valuable, that does not pro- 
pose an inquiry into the connection between 
mind and matter. Attention to the subject 
of our own consciousness, alone, excludes the 
possibility of their being well observed, be- 
cause the conditions of their being well seen 
— are neglected. That there is a direct con- 
nection between mind and matter, the soul 
and body, is an indisputable fact ; and it is 
perfectly idle, to pretend to examine the qual- 
ities of the former, without reference to the 
latter. The comprehension of the action of 
mind and the reaction of matter, involves 
the true principles of Intellectual Philosophy 
and Psychology. 

"Varieties. 1. Which is the most desira- 
ble, to know and understand much; or, to 
make a right use of what we know and un- 
derstand? 2. The Jew — asks a sign; the 
Greeks — seek after wisdom. 3. Do not the 
shadows of great thoughts, sometimes fall 
on our minds ? 

Who friendship — with a knave has made 

Is judged a partner — in the trade; 

'Tis thus, that on the choice of friends, 

Our good, or evil name — depends. 

5. Envy no man's good, or truth: seek not 
to be him. If less than thee, give mat wincn 
he asketh of thee, at all times ; if more than 
thee, envy not: neither seek to depreciate,- 
and beware of rashly condemning what is 
above thee, — lest thou materially hurt thyself. 
6. We may as soon take Jire — into the bo- 
som, without being burned, or touch tor 
without being defiled, as to frequent and at* 
hght in — bad company, without a stain upr m 
our moral character. 

MY SISTEK. 

Mine eyes — have seen the beautiful, 

Mine ears— have hear! their thrilling vmtt, 
My heart — has felt their potent rule — 

The fears of hope, the hope of joys — 
But never— has my sight approved 

A fairer — than my sister — no ! 
None other sound — so much hath moved 

As, her "dear brother,'" spoken low. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



99 



%78r Involuntary Efforts. Let no one 
imagine, that it is the design of this system to 
make arbitrary readers, and speakers; far 
from it: if the system were not founded in 
nature, such might be the result. By mak- 
ing use of the principles here developed, we 
Titurn to truth and nature ; provided we have 
wandered from them ; consequently, the ef- 
fort becomes involuntary: as was the case 
with the whistling of little Jimmy, in school; 
who, when his teacher was about to correct 
him, exclaimed, " No, no ; it was not I that 
whistled, it whistled itself." No one can be 
a good reader, or speaker, till the effort be- 
comes involuntary ; he must will, and it shall 
be done. Unfortunately, some think they 
must do some great thing; whereas, they 
have only to wash, and be clean. 

879. Epic, or heroic poetry, has for its sub- 
ject the exploits of some hero, or heroes, of 
national celebrity ; Lyric poetry is designed 
to be set to music, as psalms, hymns, ■ odes 
and songs ; Elegiac poetry involves solemn, 
or mournful subjects; Epitaphs are inscrip- 
tions on tombstones ; Pastoral poetry treats 
of rural affairs, and the social affections; it is 
appropriate to shepherds ; Didactic poetry is 
designed to convey instruction; Satyric 
poetry is for reproving the vices, errors and 
follies of the world, by holding them up to 
ridicule ; Descriptive poetry describes inter- 
esting subjects, mental or natural; and 
Romantic poetry has for its subjects, tales, 
romances, ind novels, probable, or supernat 

ural. 

880. Cause and Effect. Such are the de- 
fects of our education, that we are brought up 
almost as ignorant of our bodies and minds, 
as of the man in the moon : the consequence 
is, we are imposed upon by the shoe-maker, 
the tailor, the manlua-maker, the carpenter 
and joiner, the cabinet-maker, the miller and 
baker, the cook and the washer, and by al- 
most every body else : we are a race of abusers 
of one another. When we get a pair of shoes, 
the first question is, how well do they look 1 
So also of the coat and dress, the house, the 
chair, the flour, and bread, &c, &c. Oh, 
when shall we be wise, and understand the 
things that so nearly concern our temporal 
welfare 1 Having eyes, we see not aright; 
having ears, we hear wrong : our feelings, 
taste, and smell — betray us, because they are 
perverted. The enemy comes in upon us like 
a flood, and who will lift up a standard against 
him! 

GENERATIONS OF MAN. 

Like leaves on trees — the race of man is found, 

Now, green in youth, now, withering on the ground. 

AnoHiir race the following spring supplies j 

They fall successive, and successive rise: 

So— generations— in their course decay, 

So- flourish iliese, when those— are passed away, 



Proverbs. 1. It is well not c.jly to seem pure ; 
but, to be pure. 2. Aim at desert, rather than re- 
ward. 3. If you are in a thriving ivay, stick to it," 
and let well enough, alone. 4. Trifles — often de 
cide much — concerning the character of a person. 

5. Believe yourself capable of learning what other* 
have learned. 6. A-oid all extremes; and lice, 
and act, in the golden medium. 7. The loaded 
tree — always bends with its fruits ; as virtv* — 
stoops beneath humility. 8. Without frugally, 
none can be rich; and with it — few can be poor. 
9. The used key — is always bright. 10. Man i» e 
being who makes bargains; one dog never ex- 
changes bones with another dog. 11. You can do 
it, if you only think so, and try. 12. Quick be- 
lievers — need broad shoulders. 

Anecdote. New Character. Lord Hardy, 
who was so much addicted to the bottle, as fr» 
be always under the influence of liquor, pre- 
vious to a masquerade night, inquired of Foot, 
" what new character he ought to appear in V 
" New character," said the other, — " suppose 
you go sober, my lord." He took the hint of 
the comedian, and actually reformed. 

Industry. If industry is no more than 
habit, 'tis at least an excellent one. " If you 
ask me, which is the real hereditary sin of 
human nature, do you ims^gine I shall answer 
pride, or luxury, or ambition, or egotism ? 
No ; I shall say — indolence. Who conquers 
indolence, will conquer all the rest." Indeed, 
all good principles must stagnate, without 
mental activity. 

Varieties. 1. A prime minister — was 
asked, how he could perform such a vast 
amount of business, and yet, have so much 
leisure P He replied, I do every thing at the 
time. 2. Would wings — be folded in the 
worm, if they were not one day to enable it 
to fly? 3. The perfection of religion and 
science — will be united ; their sphere of ope- 
ration ascertained, and their periods of vicis- 
situdes known in that better age, which is 
approaching. 

Let fools — the studious despise ; 
There's nothing lost, by being wise. 
Whatever perils — may alarm us. 
Kind words — will never harm us. 

6. Pure, and undefiled religion, is the sheet 
anchor Q&- happiness, the perfection and glory 
of human nature ; its essence — is a conscience 
void of offence toward God, and man. 7. 
There is a providence in every pulsation, and 
in all the particulars that concern it : as the 
sun — never ceases to shine, so the Lorrl- 
never ceases to bless. 

There is a voice — I shall hear no more — 
There are tones, whose music, forme, is o'er, 
Sweet as the odors of spring were they. — 
Precious and rich — but, they died away ; 
They carne like peace to my heart and ear — 
Never again will they murmur here ; 
They have gone — like the blush of a summer mora. 
Like a crimson tfoud — through the sunset borne. 



100 



PRINCIPLES OF EL0CIJ7 JN. 



*-SSl. Emphasis*. Words are emphatic, 
when opposition is expressed, or understood; 
that is, when our words are contrasted, and 
when we wish to enforce our ideas, so as to 
produce their desired effects. As, Oratory — 
involves feelings, thoughts and words; so, 
does it also involve ends, or purposes, causes, 
and effects; beyond which, human minds 
cannot travel. We may illustrate emphasis, 
by what is called lever-power ; the resistance 
to be overcome, or the effect to be produced ; 
the lever as a medium, and the weight : thus, 
1 will, or desire, to accomplish a certain ob- 
ject. : here, is the region of ends, or pur- 
poses ; then, I devise ways and means, and 
determine Aow it is to be done ; here, is the 
region of causes : and, finally, I put the pur- 
pose in operation, through the means, and 
thus accomplish my object ; which, of course, 
is the region of effects. Here is the philoso- 
phy of oratory. 

282. Examples of Emphasis by Stress. 
i . It is not so easy to hide our faults, as to con- 
fess — and avoid them. 2. Never attempt to 
raise yourself, by depreciating the merits of 
of Iters. 3. As fools — make a mock at sin, so 
do the ignorant — often make a mock at 
knowledge. 4. They are generally most ri- 
diculous themselves, who see most to ridicule 
in others. 5. Wherever education is neg- 
lected, — depravity, and every kind of action, 
that degrades mankind, are most frequent. 
6. The first three volumes ; not, the ihreefirst 
volumes ; there is only one— first. 7. The 
first three, and the last two verses ; not, the 

three first, and two last. 8. To be truly — 
happy, man must be good, and renounce such 
enjoyments as are grounded in the love of 
evil. 9. There is a natural body, and there 
is a spiritual body. 10. Flesh — and blood — 
cannot inherit the kingdom of God. 

283. Rule. Emphasize the important 
word, or words, with such a degree and kind 
of stress, or expulsive prolongation of sound, 
as to convey the entire sense and feeling, m 
the best manner, and give each idea its rela- 
tive importance. Example and definition. 
** Emphasis — is the index of my meaning, 
and shows more exactly, what I wish the 
hearers to attend to — particularly." Indeed, 
it is to the mind what \he finger is to the eye : 
when we wish a person to see any thing, we 
naturally point to it: thus, are the manifesta- 
tion.-, of tl>e mind made by the emphasis, or 
printing of the voice. 

They are sleeping! Wlio are sleeping? 

Mortals., compassed round with woe, — 
Eyelids, wearied out with weeping, 

Close for very weakness now: 
And that short relief from sorrow, 

Harassed nature — shall sustain, 
Till they wake again — to-morrow, 

Strengthened— \o contend with pain! 



Proverbs. 1. We must submit tc authority 
till we can discover, or see — reasons. 8. Be not sal 

isfied with the results and ajiplications oi know 
ledge; but search for ils fountains. 3. Youlli-* 
not a time to cast away stones, but to gather them 
4. Instead of naturalizing nature, we should nat 
urali/.e art. 5. The understanding — is a refining 
vessel, in which knowledge is purified. 6. En 
deavor to acquire such knowledge, as will enablt 
you to judge correctly yourself. 7. Time — de 
stroys the speculations of man, but confirms tha 
judgments of Nature. 8. No evil propensity is c« 
powerful, but that it may be subdued, by propel 
means. 9. No one is so great, or so smali, but 
that he is capable of giving, or receiving — benefits 
10. He civil — to the great, — but intimate — with th? 
good. 11. No religion — is better than an unnatu- 
ral one. 12. Immoderate sorrow — is a species of 
suicide. 13. Pa y what you owe. 14. Great thieves 
punish little ones. 15. The absent party is al- 
ways faulty. 

Anecdote. If a private gentleman, in 
Cheshire England, about the year 1730, had 
not been overturned in his carriage ; it is 
possible, that the United States, instead of 
being a free Republic, might have remained 
a dependent colony: that gentleman — was 
Augustus Washington, who was thus thrown 
out of his carria%e, into the company of a 
lady, who afterwards became his wife, emi- 
grated with him to Virginia, and, in 173.-, be- 
came the mother — of General Washington 

Laconics. When we see birds, at the 
approach of rain, anointing their plumage 
with oil — to shield off the drops, should il 
not remind us, when the storms of conten- 
tion threaten us, to apply the oil of for 
bearance, and thus — prevent the cliilling 
drops from entering our hearts? 

Varieties. 1. Did mankind fall sudden- 
ly, or by degrees ? 2. While freedom — is true 
to itself, every one becomes subject to it ; and 
even its adversaries are instruments in its 
hands. 3. The preservation of health — de- 
pends, principally, on proper diet, early re- 
tiring, and early rising, temperance in eat- 
ing, and drinking, proper exercise, and per- 
fect cleanliness. 4. By a vicious action, we 
injure our mind, as we should our body, by 
drinking poison, or inflicting a wound upon 
it. 5. What is liberty? Willing, thinking, 
speaking, and doing — what we understand j 
provided, we violate no law, or principle- 
6. Mental pleasures — never cloy; unlik*. 
those of the body, they are increased by repe- 
tition, approved by reason, and strengthenc* 
by enjoyment. 7. Evil action, contrivance 
and speech, is but the manifestation of the 
nature of evil; and that it should be mad* 
manifest, is consistent with divine inten 

tions. 

Freedom — is 
The brilliant gift of heaven ; 'tis reason's se&C 
The kin— to Deity. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



101 



284. Emphasis. There are only ft#o ways 
of making emphasis, but as many ways of 
txhibiting it, as there are pitches, qualities, 
aud modifications of voice — in Speech and 
Song : all of which are very simple, and a 
knowledge of them easily acquired, by the 
persevering student. In every sentence, there 
is a word, or words, on which the sense de- 
pends, as the body — on the heart; the voice and 
gestures, only, can exhibit it. Emphasis, not 
only illustrates, but often amplifies the sense 
of the author ; and that is the best emphasis, 
which does this the most effectively; indeed, 
there are times when, through the emphasis, 
one may make words mean — more than they 
were designed to mean by the author. 

285. Emphasis by expulsive stress. 1. He 
who cannot bear a joke — should never give 
one. 2. Avoid a slanderer, as you would a 
scorpion. 3. A wager — is nfooPs argument. 
4. He that is past shame, is past hope. 5. 
What is worth doing at all, is worth doing 
well. 6. Men of principle, ought to be prin- 
cipal men. 7. Aim at nothing higher, till 
you can read and speak, deliberately, clearly, 
and distinctly, and with proper emphasis: all 
other graces will follow. 8. The head, with- 
out the heart, is like a steam engine, without 
a boiler. 9. As love — thinks no evil, so envy 

-speaks no good. 10. Variety, delights; 
and perfection, delights in variety. 

2S6- Music. The cu Itivation, and frequent 
practice of music, in schools of every grade, will 
have a strong, and decidedly beneficial influ- 
ence on the habits of the pupils. By using 
the same words, and singing the same pieces 
in concert, their thoughts will be directed in 
the same channel, and their affections eleva- 
ted together ; and they will naturally be led 
into closer association and sympathy with 
each other. Well chosen music may be made 
an efficient auxiliary, guiding and controlling 
the feelings and actions in the school-room, 
and contribute essentially, to the proper man- 
agement of its concerns. It was in accord- 
ance with this principle, that a certain poet 
wisely said, " Let me make the songs of the 
nation, and I care not who makes its lavis." 

»87. Geography — comprises a general de- 
scription of the earth ; and, especially of the 
nations, by which it is inhabited, in reference 
to their position and extent ; their produc- 
tions and resources ; their institutions and 
improvements ; their manners and customs; 
including the subject of statistics, voyages, 
and travels. It is a term, that admits of al- 
most indefinite extension; for in describing 
a nation, allusion must be made to its lan- 
guage, laws, religion, arts, and literature ; 
*.nd in treating of the earth, and its produc- 
nons, we may include the whole range of the 
physical sciences. 

True love— is never idle. 

12 



Proverbs. 1. It is a fraud— to conceal fraud. 
2. Never attempt to do two things— at once. 3. 
He, labors in vain, who endeavors to please every 
body. 4. To the resolute and persevering- — noth- 
ing is difficult. 5. Thieves— are game for the 
penitentiary, and often, for the gallows. 6. Kind- 
ness — begets kindness, and love — begets love. 7. 
The drop— hollows the stone, not by its force, but 
by falling often on the same spot. 8. A man who 
aspires to be an orator, must study by night, as 
well as by day. 9. There is no sauce equal to & 
good appetite. 10. To wicked persons — the vir- 
tue of others — is always a subject of envy. 11. A 
man would not be alone, even in paradia. 12. 
Weigh right, if you sell dear. 

Anecdote. Dr. Johnson — observed to 
Macklin, in a sneering manner, that literary 
men — should converse in the learned lan- 
guages; and immediately addressed the dra- 
matist in Latin ; after which, Macklin — ut- 
tered a long sentence in Irish. The Doctor 
again returned to the English tongue, saying, 
" You may speak very good Greek ; but I am 
not sufficiently versed in that dialect — to con- 
verse with you fluently." 

Of Dress, &c. A creature, who spends 
its time in dressing, gaming, prating, and 
gadding, is a being originally, indeed, of the 
rational make ; but who has sunk itself be- 
neath its rank, and is to be considered, at 
present, as nearly on a level with the mon- 
key-species. 

Varieties. 1. What was the design of 
God, in making man? 2. How absurd, to 
have half a dozen children, with different dis- 
positions, and capabilities, and yet, give them 
all — the same education ! 3. Are not bigot- 
ry, and intolerance — as destructive to -to 
rality, as they are to common sex„' "" 4. 
Observations, made in the cloister, or in the 
desert, will generally be as obscure — as the 
one, and barren — as the other ; to become 
orators, or painters, we must study originals. 
5. Which side of a pitcher has the handle? 
The oidside, of course. 6. If a book really 
needs the patronage of a great man ; it is a 
bad book ; and if it be a good book, it does 
not need it. 7. To sow the seeds of order — 
we must be just ; and so, also, to water them ; 
but beware that self — enter not into the eu> 
tion. 

Before the gate there sat, 
On either side, a formidable shape. 
The one seemed woman — to the waist, and fair , 
But ended foul, in many a scaly fold, 
Voluminous and vast ; — a serpent arm'd 
With mortal stings. 

The other shape. 
If shape it might be calVd, that shape had none. 
Or substance might be cali'd, that shadow seemed 
For each seem'd each, black it stood as night. 
Fierce as ten furies, — terrible as hell. 
And shook a dreadful dart. 

You think this cruel ; take it for a -w'e, 

JVo creature — smarts sc little — a« n fool. 



102 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



MSS. Remember that Empfiasis — is to 
words, in a seatmc*, what accent is to Miert 
or syllables, in a word ; and, as proper ac- 
cent — on a right vowel, will impart an impe- 
tus to the voice, in going through the word; 
so, (rue emphasis on the same, will give an 
impetus in delivering the sentence, so as to 
ultimate the end you have in view. Again, 
the length of long vowel sounds, in emphatic 
words, is, to the same vowels, in accented 
words, what accented long ones are, to unac- 
cented long ones: similar observations might 
be made in reference to force — on emphatic 
short vowels, and accented and unaccented 
short ones. 

289. The various effects, produced hy 
changing the seat of Emphasis, from one 
word to another, may be seen in the follow- 
ing sentence, of emphatic memory ; provided 
h be read according to the notation. " Will 
you ride to town to-day 1 ?" That is: will 
you ride, or will you not? "Will you ride 
to town to-day ? " That is : will you ride, or 
will you send some one. " Will you ride to 
town to-day?" That is: will you ride, or 
walk? "Will you ride to town to-day?" 
That is : will you ride to town, or will you 
ride somewhere else? "Will you ride to 
town to-day?" That is: will you ride to 
town to-day, or to-morrow ; or, next week ? 
By using other modifications of voice, as many 
shades of meaning may be given, even to this 
short sentence, as there are letters in it. 

2fM>. Application. It is incredible, how 
much may be accomplished by diligence, and 
industry. The present state of the world, en- 
lightened by the arts and sciences, is a living 
proof, that difficulties, seemingly insuperable, 
may finally be overcome. This considera- 
tion ought to stimulate us to industry and 
application. We do not know our own 
strength, till we try it; nor to what extent 
our abilities will carry us, till we put them to 
the test. Those who want resolution, often 
desiat from useful enterprises, when they 
have more than half effected their purposes: 
they are discouraged by difficulties and dis- 
appointments, which ought rather to excite 
their ardor, and cause them to redouble their 
efforts to succeed. 

Anecdote. While Athens — was governed 
by the thirty tyrants, Socrates, the philoso- 
pher, was ordered to assist in seizing one 
Leon, a mm of rank and fortune, whom 
they determined to put out of the wuy, that 
they might enjoy his estate,- but Socrates 
positively refused: saying, "I will not wil- 
lingly assist — in an unjust act." "Dost 
thou think," (said one of them,) "to talk in 
this high tone, and not to suffer?" "Far 
from it," replied he; "I expect to suffer a 
thousand ills; but none so great — as to do 
uryusthj." 



Proverbs. 1. Wisdom — excellet.i folly, >* 
much as light excels daikncss. 2. Opinion ■ la 
free ; and conduct alone — amenab! • to the lum. 
3. Some — affect to despise — what they do not un- 
derstand. 4. In trying to avoid one danger, we 
sometimes fall into another. 5. Decency — is the 
natural characteristic of virtue, and the dec< > 
live coloring office. 6. Never despair; speak 
the commanding word, " I will," and it ia doni. 
7. Never chase a lie ; for if you keep quiet, truth 
—will eventually overtake it. 8. A punctual 
man, is rarely a poor man ; and never — a man of 
doubtful credit. 9. Persons of fashion, starve 
their happiness, to feed their vanity ; and their 
love, to feed their pride. 10. There is a great 
difference — between repeating a maxim, or pro- 
verb, and a practical observance of it. 11. Dis- 
eases — are the interest of sensual pleasures. 12. 
The half is often better than the whole. 1?. Jus- 
tice — should rule over ull. 

Bigots. Bigots, who are violent, positive, 
and intolerant, in their religious tenets, ought 
to feel very much humbled, when they reflect, 
that they would have been equally so for any 
other religion, had it been the religion of their 
parents, or of the country in which they had 
been bom and educated. 

Varieties. 1. Why is a talc-beaier — like a 
fcncfc-layer? Because he raises stories. 2. 
When you have nothing to say, say nothing; 
far a weak defence — strengthens your oppo- 
nent: and silence — is better than a bad re- 
ply. 3. We might enjoy much peace, and 
happiness, if we would not busy ourselves, 
with what others say and do. 4 Never think 
of yourself, when reading, speaking, or 
singing,- but of your subject ; and avoid an 
artificial, and grandiloquent style of delivery 
5. It is not enough — to be left to the tuition 
of Nature, unless we know what lessons she 
teaches. 6. Morals — too often come from 
the pulpit, in the cold abstract ; but men 
smart under them when good lawyers are 
the preachers. 7. When we become perfect 
ly rational, and act wholly from ourselves— 
in consequence of it, we are accountable ff* 
all our actions, and they are then impiU< <. «o 
us, if evil, — but not before. 

Where Ihe gentle streamlets flow, 
Where the morning dew-drops glow, 
Where the zephyrs— wing their flight. 
In the cool and welcome night, 
Whispering through the fragrant groT* 
To the heart, that " God is love," 
Where the light cloud skims the sky. 
Worship ! "God is passing by !" 
Hoary forest, rugged rock, 
Roaring torrents, earthquake's shock, 
Mighty tempests, lightning's glare, 
Ocean, raging in despair. 
And the desert— lone and drear, 
Wake the soul of man to fear ; 
And when thunder rends the sky, 
Tremble I "God is passing '" 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



103 



»91. Emphasis. If your articulation, 
and pronunciation, be clear and correct, and 
you are free from all unnatural tones, and 
other bad habits, nothing can prevent your 
succeeding in this important art, if you per- 
fect yourself in Emphasis : hence, the reason 
of dwelling on the subject so long, and of 
giving such a variety of examples. But re- 
mentoer, that books, rules, teachers, or all 
mmbined, cannot make orators of you, with- 
out you throw your whole heart and soul 
into the exercises, and let your zeal be ac- 
cording to knowledge. Become independent 
of your book, and speak from memory, as 
soon as possible ; then, you will be left to the 
promptings and guidance of your own mind, 
and become free. 

292. 1. Men live, and prosper, but in mu- 
tual trust, and confidence of one another's 
truth. 2. Those, who are teaching our youth 
— to read with science and effect, are doing 
much to increase the power, and extend the 
influence — of standard authors. 

Peace — is the happy, natural state of man ; 

War — his corruption, and disgrace. 
To native genius — would you prove a friend ! 
Point out his faults— and teach him how to mend. 

Let us 
Act with prudence, and with manly temper, 
As well as ms.n\y firmness ; 
Tis God-like magnanimity — to keep, 
When most provoked, our reason — calm, and clear. 

Notes. The ancients very properly called man a micro- 
cosm, o. - little world. But what were this world — without a sun, 
to impart to it light and heat ? Of what use the body — without 
the soul ? Of what use the house, without the inhabitant ? and 
•f what use ivords, without thought and feeling ? And of what 
use are all these, if they cannot be made manifest ? The body— 
it the mind's servant, and depends on its care, as the mind itself 
does on the Father of mind. Body, and soul — are best taken care 
of, when both ire minded together. 

293. Architecture — teaches the art of 
building; and is one of the most useful, as 
well as ancient, of all the arts: it demands 
much more attention, than it has ever re- 
ceived; especially, in this country : and many 
— would save time, labor and money, and 
have better houses, as to comfort and appear- 
ance, if they would make themselves ac- 
quainted with this important art. Most 
persons will find it much to their benefit, to 
call upon an architect, when about to erect a 
building of importance. 

Anecdote. King James I., of England, 
went out of his ivay one day, to hear a noted 
preacher. The clergyman, seeing the king 
enter, left his text — to declaim against swear- 
ing; for which vile practice — the king was 
nottmous. After service, the king thanked 
him for his sermon; and asked him, what 
connection swearing had with his text. The 
minister replied, "Since your majesty came 
out of your way, thro' curiosity, I could not, 
in compliance, do less than go out of mine — 
to rr eet you." 



Proverbs. 1. Temperance — ax-it»tcft»p ranca 
— reward, and punish themselves. 2. Riches — are 
sen-ants to the wise, — but tyrants .o fools. 3. Nona 
can be great, wlio have ceased to be virtuous. 4. 
Motiey — does no good, till it is distributed. 5. If 
you have one true friend, think yourself happy. 6. 
Silks, and satins, often put out the kitchener*. 7. 
Hunger — looks into the working-man's house ; bul 
dare not enter. S. When the well is dry, people 
know the worth of water. 9. Business — makes a 
man, as well as tires him. 10. For the evidence of 
truth, look at the truth itself. 11. Better go away 
longing, than loathing. 12. Of saving — cometh 
having. 13. God — never made a hypocrite. 

Reading, Writing, and Speaking. 
Habits of literary conversation, and still more, 
habits of extempore discussion in a popular 
assembly, are peculiarly useful in giving us 
a ready and practical command of our know- 
ledge. There is much good sense in the fol- 
lowing aphorism of Bacon : "Reading makes 
a full man, writing a correct man, andspeafc- 
ing a ready man." 

Varieties. 1. Through an affected con- 
tempt — for what some call little things, many 
remain ignorant — of what they might easils 
know. 2. A harmless hilarity, and buoyara 
cheerfulness — are not unfrequent concomi- 
tants of genius ; and we are never more de- 
ceived, than when we mistake gravity — for 
greatness, solemnity — for science, and pom- 
posity for erudition. 3. It is better to have 
recourse to a quack, who can cure oui dis- 
ease, tho' he cannot explain it, than to one 
who can explain, but cannot cure it. 4. Ear- 
ly rising — not only gives us more life, in the 
same number of years, but adds to the num- 
ber ; and not only enables us to enjoy more 
of existence, in the same measure of time,\m\ 
increases also their measure. 5. For his 
honesty, there was no winter in't ; an au- 
tumn 'twas, that grew the more, by reaping 
6. Let us admire the results of truth, while 
we ascend to the source of truth. 7. Look 
first inwardly, for the coming of the Lord, 
and of his kingdom; and when certainly 
found there, then look in outward nature, frt 
a harmony agreeing with it ; but not before. 

Tell me not, in mournful numbers, 
Life — is but an empty dream! 

For the soul is dead, that slumbers. 
And things are not— what they sum. 

Life is real! Life is earnest! 
And the grave — is not its goal ; 

Dvst thou art, to dust returnest. 
Was not spoken — of the soul. 

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow. 
Is our destined end or way ; 

But to act, that each \o-morrow 
Finds us farther— than Xo-day 

Let us, then, be up and doing, 
With a heart for any fate; 

Still achieving, still pursuing. 
Learn to labor, and to usaii. 



104 



PRIIsClPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



»94. Emphasis -is sometimes exhibited 
by changing the scat of accent, l. What is 
done, cannot be undone. 2. If he dill not do 
it directly, he did it indirectly. 3. There are 
probably as many invisible as t>i6ible things. 
4. Did he *:t Aoncstly, or dishonestly? 5. 
There is a difference between giving, azk&for- 
giving. 6. Does he speak distinctly, or in- 
distinctly? 7. Better be untaught than ill- 
fciught; and better be alone, than in bad 
company. 8. He that ascended, is the same 
8£ lie that descended. 9. Pure religion rais- 
fi men above themselves; irreligion — sinks 
them to the brute. 10. Similitude— joins; 
d issimilitude — separates. 

395. Emphasis — by changing the seat of 
accent, in words of the same structure, and 
of different structure, to convey the full 
meaning. 1. To do, and to u?i-do — is the 
common business of the world. 2. Reason, 
truth, and virtue — are the proper measures 
of praise, and dis-praise. 3. Mind, and voice 
— act, and re-act upon one another. 4. We 
may have .sen-sibility without manifesting ir- 
ritability. 5. Some things are con-lenient; 
wliile others are in-convenient. 6. It is ne- 
cessary to observe the division, and the sub- 
division. 7. In the suitableness or wn-suit- 
ableness, in the proportion or disproportion, 
which the desire bears to the cause, and the 
u'jeci, consists the propriety, or im -propriety, 
tJie de-cency, or in-decency — of the conse- 
quent action. 

296. Dyspepsia. Many persons of the 
present day do not chew their food like a man, 
but bolt it V)hole, like a boa-constrictor : they 
neither take the trouble to dissect, nor the 
time to masticate it. It is no wonder they 
lose their teeth, for they rarely use them ; and 
their power of digestion, for they exhaust it 
oy overeating. They load their stomachs, 
as a drayman does hir, cart, as full as it will 
aold, and as fast as they can pitch it in ; and 
then complain that their load is too heavy. 

2G7. Zo-ol-o-sy. Almost every child — is 
a naturalist : hence, among the earliest plays 
of child fuiod, the observation of the habits of 
different animals, holds a prominent place. 
How delighted are they with dogs, cats, calves, 
lambs, sheep, oxen, and torses! What a 
pity, that so much pains should be taken in 
an imperfect education, to sever their young 
minds from these interesting objects; so well 
calculated to induce close observation, and 
open new fountains in the youthful mind ! 
But how greatly are these studies increased 
in value , by adding the treasures of Botany, 
and Mineralogy, beautiful flowers, and pre- 
cious stones ! What a glorious world, and 
how admirably designed — to t id in the de- 
velopment of body and mind. 

Eye nature's walks, shoo\ folic j>, as \* flies, 
And catch the manners— living, as they rise. 



Proverbs. 1. Many, who possas muth, tn< 
joy hut little. 2. Nevei .'ound the trumpet of youi 
ownfame. 3, Faction — is the bam: of society. 
4. Religious contention — is Satan's harvest. 5 
Sell not virtue to purchase wealth. 6. The dis- 
course of flatterers, is like a rope of honey. 7. 
Tnitli may languish, but it never dies. 8. Under- 
take — no more than you can perform. 9. Value a 
good conscience more than praise. 1C. We are 
bound to be honest, but not to be rick. 11. lie i» 
idle, that might be better employed. 12. The no j*e 
laws — the more offenders. 

Anecdote. Sailor and Highwayman, A 
stage — was once stopped by a highwayman, 
who, being informed by the driver, that there 
were no inside passengers, and only one on 
the outside, and he a sailor, — the robber pro- 
ceeded to exercise his functions upon the 
bold and honest tar ; when, waking him up, 
Jack demanded to know what he wanted: tc 
which the son of plunder replied, — " Your 
money;" "You shan't have it, : ' says Jack. 
"No?" rejoined the robber, "then 1*11 blow 
your brains out." " Blow away, then ; I may 
as well be without brains, as without money 
Drive on, coachee .'" 

Independence. Alwaj's form your own 
opinion of a person, and never allow anoth- 
er, even your most intimate friend, to judge 
for you ; as he may not have half the power 
of discriminating character, that you yourself 
possess. Never allow yourself to be talked 
out of any tiling — against your better judg- 
ment; nor talked into any thing; unless you 
see clearly, that the reasons advanced — are 
more powerful than your own. 

Varieties. 1. If your principles arc false, 
no apology can make them right ; if founded 
in truth, no censure can make them ivrong. 
2. Do your best to do your best, and what 
you lack in power, supply with will. 3. Ev- 
ery plant that is produced, every child that is 
born, is a new idea ; a fresh expression of the 
wisdom and goodness of our Creator. 4. 
When I see a tight laced girl, or woman, I 
think, — well, there goes another fool. 5. Can 
one passion, though it predominate, act with- 
out assistance of the other passions '.' 6. The 
state of the three kingdoms in nature, speak 
the same at all times ; as also the state of ev- 
ery nation, and what is passing in it; all 
these things are a language, as are 
many smalfcr particulars, the' attended by 
none. 

Tl.cre wil come, 
Alike, the day of trial — unto all, 
And the rude world — will buffet us since : 
Temptation— hath a music— for all ears; 
And mad ambition — trumpelelh to all , 
And ungovernable thought, within, 
Will be in every bosom— eloquent : 
But, when the silence — and the calm iomc o«t 
And the high seal — of character — is set, 
We shall not all- >e similar. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION 



105 



90S. Emphasis, by changing the seat of 
Accent, and, of course, the Emphasis too. 
1. Does he pronounce correctly, or incorrect- 
ly 7 2. In some kinds of composition, plaus- 
ibility is deemed as essential as jaro&ability. 
3. Does that man speak rationally, or irra- 
tionally! 4. We are not now to inquire 
into the justice, or the injustice, the honor, 
or the dishonor of the deed; nor whether it 
was lawful, or unlawful, wise, or unwise ; 
but, whether it was actually committed. 5. 
He who is good before i??,visible witnesses, is 
eminently so before visible ones. 6. This 
corruptible — must put on incorruption, and 
this mortal — immortality. 7. What fellow- 
ship hath rig-A/eousness, with unrighteous- 
ness ' or what communion hath light — with 
darknessl 8. We naturally love what is 
agreeable, and hate what is disagreeable. 

299. It is surprising, how few, even of our 
better readers, emphasize the right words, in 
a proper manner ; this is more especially the 
case in reading, than in speaking; and yet 
children emphasize, correctly, everything that 
is the result of their own feelings and 
thoughts. Incorrect emphasis, always per- 
verts the sense ; and, to the hearer, it is like 
directing a traveler in the wrong road. Ex. 
I. "Dr. Syntax told Jack, to saddle his horse; 
and Jack saddled him." Thus emphasized, 
there is no possibility of doubt, but that Jack 
— put the saddle on the Doctor. Place the 
emphasis on saddled, and you will get the 
true meaning. 2. Now, therefore, the said 
John, (says the said Thomas,) is a thief. 3. 
Now, therefore, the said John, says the said 
Thamas is a thief. Apply emphasis in a va- 
riety of ways, to other examples. 

300. Construction of Houses. How 
little attention is paid to the construction 
of our dwellings! They seem to be built, 
principally, for their looks; and without 
regard to health, and comfort. Our sleep- 
ing apartments — appear to be of second- 
ary consideration ; they are generally made 
small ; are poorly ventilated, with low 
ceilings, while all ingress and egress of air 
is carefully prevented. It would be much 
better to reverse this arrangement, and have 
our dwelling apartments constructed like our 
sleeping apartments ; for the former are often 
ventilated through the day. Beware of low 
stories, or low ceilings: houses with attic 
stories, or half stories, or garrets, used for 
sleeping or study rooms, are hot-beds of dis- 
ease and death; excellent places, with the 
addition of highly seasoned food, and a plenty 
at coffee, to generate bilious and other fevers. 
Fine economy this ! and then pay the physi- 
cian a few hundred dollars a year, to cure, or 
kill you ! 

The best— sometimes, from virtue's path recede; 
But if the intent be good, excuse the deed. 
14 



Proverbs. 1. One may ha\ e a thousand ac 
quainlances, and not one real friend among them 
all. 2. The richer a country is in talent, and good 
sense, the happier will it be. 3. Always to speak 
— what we think, is a sure way — to acquire the 
habit of thinking and acting with propriety. 4. 
All finery — is a sign of littleness. 5. In proportion 
as we know ourselves, we are enabled to know 
others. 6. The government — and people — should 
never regard each other, as opposite parties. 7 
Time andlabor — change a. mulberry -\et\.C into satin. 
8. As virtue — is its own reward; so vice — is it» 
own punishment. 9. It is torture, to enemies, to re- 
turn their injuries with kindness. 10. Cast thy 
bread upon the waters ; for thou shah find it, after 
many days. 11. He, may find fault, who cannot 
mend. 12. A bird is known by ilsnote, and a man 
— by his talk 

Anecdote. No rank in life — precludes the 
efficacy — of a well-timed compliment. When 
Queen Elizabeth, who was highly accom- 
plished, both in mind and person, asked an 
embassador, how he liked her ladies, who at- 
tended on her ; he replied, " It is hard to judge 
of stars — in presence of the sun." 

An Honest Means of getting aliivlng. 
There seems to be but three ways for a nation 
to acquire wealth ; the first is by war, as the 
Romans did, in plundering their conquered 
neighbors, — this is robbery; the second, by 
commerce, which is generally cheating ; the 
third, by agriculture, the only honest way, 
wherein a man receives a real increase of the 
seed thrown into the ground, in a kind of 
continual miracle, wrought by the hand of 
God in his favor, as a reward for his innocent 
life and his virtuous industry. 

Varieties. 1. Should not every one be- 
ware of the evils, attendant on his own con 
dition 1 2. Children, as well as adults, are 
benefitted by their own conjectures and reas- 
onings ; even about things and principles, 
that they cannot as yet comprehend. 3. 
What does education mean, but the regene- 
ration of the mind ? 4. The present families 
of mankind — seem but the wrecks and ruins 
of men ; like the continents, that compose the 
earth. 5. How apt we are — to make our- 
selves — the measure of the universe; and 
with the span of one life, or the world's his- 
tory, to crowd the magnitude, and extent of 
the works of God ; these are but parts — of 
one stupendous whole. 6. Our bodies are 
new-formed every seven years. 7. Only, that 
external worship is profitable, in which an 
internal feeling, and a sense of what is said 
and done, exists ; for without such sense, it 
must needs be merely external. 
Lo ! like a glorious pile of diamonds bright 

Built on the steadfast cliff, the waterfall 
Pours forth its gems of pearl and silver light ; 

They sink, they rise, and, sparkling, cover aH 
With infinite refulgence : while its eong, 
Sublime as thundet, lolls the woods alor-jj. 



106 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



301. Emphasis — may be exhibited by 
stress, and higher pitch : that is, force and 
loudness of voice, and elevation to the upper 
notes of tne scale. 1. Little minds — are 
tamed — and subdued — by misfortunes; but 
f.reat ones — rise above them. 2. Virtue 
— leads to happiness; vice — to misery. 3. 
True liberty — can exist — only where jus- 
tice- — is impartially administered. 4. Trn- 
anni — is detestable — in every shape; but in 
none so formidable, as when assumed and 
exercised, by a jtum b e h of tyrants. 5. Frown 
indignantly, upon the first dawning — of 
an attempt, to alienate any portion of this 
Union from the rest: the Union — it must 
be preserved. 6. Drunkenness — destroys 
more of the human race, and alienates more 
property, than all the other crimes on earth. 
7. A day, an hour — of virtuous liberty, is 
worth a whole eternity in bondage. 8. I tell 
you,tho' (5) you,- tho' all the (6) world; tho' 
an angel from (8) HEAVEN — declare the 
truth of it, I could not believe it. N. B. The 
words in small capitals have both stress and 
elevation. 

303. Strong Points. There are, in all 
kinds of sentences, paragraphs, speeches, 
&c, what may be called strong points, which 
are to be shown, principally, by the voice: 
hence, the importance of throwing all weak 
parts into the background, and bringing out 
the strong ones — into the /ore-ground. Now 
if the little words, that are insignificant, are, 
in their pronunciation and delivery, made 
significant, the proper effect will be destroy- 
ed. Therefore, we should never make prom- 
inent such words as are not emphatic ; and 
especially, such words as at, by, of, for, from, 
in, on, up, with, &c, unless they are contras- 
ted with their opposites: as — of, or for; by, 
or through ; from or to ; in or out ; on, or 
under ; up, or down, &c. 

303. Recitations. Frequent recitations, 
from memory, are very useful, as they oblige 
lie speaker to dwell on the ideas, which he 
wishes to express, discern their particular 
meanings, and force, and give him a know- 
ledge of emphasis, tones, &c, which the 
pieces require : and they will especially re- 
lieve him from the influence of school-boy hab- 
its — of reading differently from conversation, 
on similar subjects, and afford far greater 
scope for expression and gestures. 

304. Ethics. Moral Philosophy, — treats 
of our duties to our Maker, to our fellow- 
men, and to ourselves; and the reasons by 
which those duties are enforced. Its great 
c uiject seems to be — to promote the cause of 
ttrtue, by showing its reasonableness, excel- 
lence and beauty, and the melancholy effects 
cr neglecting or forsaking it. 

Honor — is an isle, — whose rocky coast 
\Vher. once abandoned, is forever lost. 



Proverbs. 1. He, who goes no further Uia* 
li:ire justice, stops at the beginning of virtue. 2. 
The blameless — should not bear the effects of «t*e« 
3. The faults, and misfortunes of others, should 
serve as beacons, to warn us against the causes, 
by which they have been overwhelmed. 4. Somi 
—have such a love for contention, that they will 
quarrel, even with a friend, for a matter aevoid of 
all importance. 5. The human mind— can ac- 
complish almost any thing that it determines to ef- 
fect ; for patience, and perseverance, surmount eveng 
surmountable difficulty. 6. Keep your appetite — 
under the control of reason. 7. The indulgence 
of a satirical disposition — is always dangerous : 
it betrays a malicious spirit, a bad heart, and of- 
ten creates enmities, and dislikes, that no lapse of 
years can soften, and death— can hardly extinguish 
8. While the tongue and expression of some- 
seem to be Iwnied, their heart — abounds with vine- 
gar. 9. Superfluity — o ften leads to profut ion. 10. 
Characters — in every other respect virtuous and 
amiable, if tinged with haughtiness and reserve, 
become odious. 11. Solitude — dulls thought; too 
much society— dissipates it. 12. The longest life — 
is but a parcel of moments. 13. Without pru- 
dence, fortitude is mad. 

Anecdote. A paver, who had often dun- 
ned a Doctor, was one day answered by him, 
— " Do you pretend to be paid for such work ? 
You have spoiled my pavement, and covered 
it with earth — to hide its defects.'" " Mine is 
not the only bad work, that the earth hides 
as your practice abundantly proves," — re- 
joined the man. 

^Legendary Tales. In countries, where 
education and learning abound, legendary 
and miraculous tales lose ground; exciting 
but little interest, and less belief, and at last 
almost becoming a dead letter. Mankind, in 
a state of ignorance, with little education, 
are credulous, and fond of the marvellous ■, 
and there have not been wanting, in all ages, 
men of craft and invention, to gratify that 
passion in others, and turn it to their own 
advantage. 

Varieties. 1. The Bible— has truth fl- 
its subject, the mind for its object, and tne 
Father of mind for its Author. 2. Such is the 
arrangement of Divine Order, in the gcvem 
ment of the universe, that iw evil can beprac* 
ticed, or intended, without eventually falling 
on the contriver. 3. A knowledge of man*s 
physical organization, as well as mental, is 
essentially requisite for all, who would suc- 
cessfully cultivate the field of education. 4. 
Experience — is the knowledge of every thing 
in the natural world, that is capable of be- 
ing received through the medium of the senses. 
5. Where liberty dwells, there — is ray coun- 
try. 6. Intemperance — drives wit out of the 
head, money out of the pocket, elbows out of 
the coat, and health qut of the body. 7. In 
the choice of a wife, take the obedient dough* ^ 
ter of a good mother. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



10? 



305. Emphasis — is made, secondly, by 
quantity and force; i.e. prolongation of 
bound, and stress of voice, on either high, low, 
or medium pitches. 1. Roll on, — thou dark 
— and deep blue ocean — roll ; Ten thous- 
and fleets sweep — over thee in vain. 2. 
Let our object be — our country,- our whole 
country; and nothing but — our country. 
3. I warn you — do not dare — to lay your 
hand on the constitution. 4. Hail ! Univer- 
sal Lord ! Be bounteous still — to give us 
oxli good; and if the night — have gathered 
— aught of evil — or concealed — disperse it 
now, as light — dispels the dark. 5. A Deity 
— believed — is joy begun ,- a Deity — adored 
— is joy advanced, — a Deity — beloved — 
is joy matured. 6. Prayer— ardent — opens 
teaven; lets down a stream of glory — on 
the consecrated hours of man, — in audience 
—with the Deity. N. B. The first Ex. is 
an instance of the lowest division of subjects 
— the Natural; the second and third, of the 
middle division — the Human ,- and the fourth 
and fifth, of the tipper — the Divine: see pre- 
vious article on this subject. 

306. Sheridan, of whose oratorical pow- 
ers, every elocutionist has heard, after having 
excited a great interest among his friends, 
who were filled with hope at his prospects, 
made a signal failure, on his first appearance 
in Parliament; insomuch, that he was en- 
treated never to make another attempt. He 
nobly replied — " I will ,- for by Heaven, it is 
in me, and it shall come out." He did try, 
and his efforts were crowned with success. 
In like manner, almost every orator jailed at 
first ; but ; erseverance made them more than 
conquerors. It is not unfrequent that the 
most abashei, and ill-omened, succeed the 
best. Take courage ,- let your motto be " on- 
ward and upward, and true to the line." 

My crown is in my heart, — not on my head; 
Nor decked with diamonds, and Indian stones : 
Nor to be seen ; my crown — is called — Content; 
A crown it is — that seldom kings enjoy. 
If there is a Power above us, 
(And that there is — all Nature — cries aloud, 
Thro' all her worts,) He— must delight in virtue; 
And that which He delights in — must be happy. 
He hath a heart — as sound as a bell, 
And his tongue — is the clapper; 
For whan his heart — thinks, his tongue — speaks. 
Where'er thou journeyest — or whate'er thy care, 
My heart shall follow, and my spirit — share. 
5. American Literature — will find, that the 
intellectual spirit — is her tree of life ; and 
the union of the states, — her garden of 
Paradise. 6. God — is our Father ; and al- 
though we, as children, may be ever so 
guilty, his compassion towards us- -fails not ; 
and hcwillptty, forgive, and counsel, advise, 
teach, and lead us o it of evil, whenever we 
sincerely wish it. 



Proverbs. 1. A desire to resist oppressi 
is implanted in the nature of man. 2. The faults 
and errors of ethers, are lesson* of caution — to our- 
selves. 3. No shield is so impenetrable, no security 
so effectual, as a mind — conscious of its innocence. 

4. Our most delightful enjoyments — are always 
liable to interruption. 5. If our passions are not 
kept under control, they will soon master ug 6. 
Those tilings that are unbecoming, are uns zfe. 7 
Ardent spirits — have drowned more people, than 
all the waters in the world. 8. He, is never tired 
of listening, who wishes to gain wisdom 9. All 
true religion relates to life; and the life of ;hai re- 
ligion is — to do good from a love of it iu. A wisa 
man is a great wonder. 11. Be courteous to all, 
and intimate with feio. 12. Defile not your mouth 
with swearing. 

Anecdote. Law Practice. A lawyer told 
his client, that his opponent — had removed 
his suit to a higher court : " Let him remove 
it where he pleases, (quoth the client ;) my 
attorney will follow it — for money." 

Common Sense. It is in the portico of 
the Greek sage, that that phrase has received 
its legitimate explanation ,- it is there we are 
taught, that " common sense" signifies " the 
sense of the common interest." Yes ! it is the 
most beautiful truth in morals, that we have 
no such thing as a distinct or divided interest 
from our race. In their welfare is ours, and 
by choosing the broadest paths to effect their 
happinesss, we choose the surest and the 
shortest to our own. 

Varieties. 1. The universe — is an em- 
pire,- and God — its sovereign. 2. The smooth- 
ness of fiattery — cannot now avail, — cannot 
save us, in this rugged and awful crisis. 3. 
I had much rather see all — industrious and 
enlightened, — than to see one half of man- 
kind — slaves to the other, and these — slaves 
to their passions. 4. The condition of scof- 
fers, is of all — the most dangerous ; as well 
from the particular state of mind, that consti 
tutes their character, as because they are in- 
capable of conviction — by argument; who 
ever knew such a one converted to the truth? 

5. Watch against, and suppress — the first 
motions of spiritual pride; such as — prone- 
ness to think too highly of yourselves, or a 
desire to have others think highly of you, on 
account of your spiritual attainments. 6. 
How many villains — walk the earth with 
credit, from the mere fulfilment of negative 
decencies. 7. Study history, not so much foi 
its political events, as for a knowledge of hr* 
man nature. 

Away! away to the mountain's brow, 

Where the trees are gently waving ; 
Away ! away to the mountain's brow, 

Where the stream is gently laving. 
Away ! away to the rocky glen, 

Where the deer are wildly bounding ; 
And the hills shall echo in gladness again 

To the hunter'>s bugle sounding. 



108 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



307. Quantity a\b Rhetorical 
Pacse. 1. Dwell on such words as arc expres- 
sive of the kindlier affections, with a slow 
and adhesive movement of voice, as if you 
parted with the ideas reluctantly. 2. Very 
deliberate subjects require more or less of 
quantity in their emphasis: so also do the 
sublime, the grand, and the solemn ; partic- 
ularly, the reverential, the grave ; so also do 
earnest entreaty, prayer, deep pathos, &c. 
Ex. "Join — all ye creatures — to extol — Him 
— first; Him — last; Hxm — midst, and — 
without end" " Mary ! dear — departed 
shade, Where is thy place of blissful rest ? 
Seest thou thy lover — lowly laid 7 Hearst 
thou the groans, that rend his breast?" 

308. Read, or rather speak from memory, 
these lines with quantity, and on the lower 
pitches of voice. 

Night, (sable goddess) from her ebon throne, 
In rayless majesty, now stretches/dr 
Her leaden sceptre — o'er a slumbering world. 
Silence — how dead.' and darkness — bow profound : 
Nor eye, nor listening ear, an object finds. 
Creation — sleeps. 'Tis — as if the general pulse 
Of life — stood still, — and Nature — made zpause, 
An awful pause, — prophetic of her end. 

309. Important Considerations. If 
the evils of tight lacing, and tight dressing 
could only stop with the guilty, one consola- 
tion would still be left us ; but even this is 
denied us : no ! there is not even one drop 
of joy to be cast into our cup of bitterness — 
the draught is one of unmingled gall : the 
human form divine is sadly deformed; the 
fountain of innumerable evils and diseases is 
opened by this suicidal practice ; and thous- 
ands of human beings are yearly coming 
into life, cursed from head to foot, from mind 
to body, with the awful effects of this infer- 
nal fashion, which originated in the basest 
passions of the human heart. Oh, who can 
measure the accumulating woe, which this 
accursed custom has entailed, and is yet en- 
tailing on the human race ! 

Anecdote. To prevent Suicide. A Hi- 
bernian Senator, speaking on the subject of 
preventing suicide, said, — " The only way I 
can conceive, of stopping the business, is, — 
to make it a capital offence, punishable with 
death." 

O how weak 
Is mortal man '. How trifling — how confin'd 
His 6cope of vision .' — Puff'd with confidence, 
His phrase — grows big with immortality; 
And he, poor insect of a summers day, 
Dreams of eternal honors to his name ; 
Of endless glory, and perennial bays. 
He idly reasons of Eternity, 
As of the train of ages, — when, alas ! 
Ten thousand thousand of his centuries 
Are, in comparison, a little point, 
Too trivial for account. 

Unltarn the evils you ni ve learned 



Proverbs. 1. You cannot appease jnry 
even by sacrificing virtue. 2. The envious mas 
grows base, by contemplating the success of an- 
other. 3. A government, that undervalues the af- 
fections of the people, and expects to find a firm 
basis in terrors, will be mistaken, and short-lived 
4. He, who passes over a crime, unreproved, or 
unpunished, encourages its repetition. 5. He, 
who controls his passions, subdues His greatest 
enemy. 6. He, alone is wise, that can adapt him- 
self to all the contingencies of life; but (he fool — 
vainly contends, and struggles against the stream. 
7. The ways of the lazy — are as a hedge of 
tJiorns. 8. To a lazy man — every exertion is pain- 
ful, and every movement a labor. 9. Innocence — 
and mysteriousness — seldom dwell together. 10. It 
is folly — to expect justice — at the hands of the 
unjust. 11. Great are the charms of novelty. 12. 
Custom — is no small matter. 13. Consider thy 
ways, and be whe. 

Humbugs. All new developments of 
truth — are called, by many, who do not ajj- 
preciate them, or dare to think and act for 
themselves — " Humbugs :"' and this dreadful 
name — has no doubt had the effect — to lead 
some — to condemn them, without further in 
quiry. But the worst of all humbugs, the 
most deplorable of all delusions — is that, 
which leads men to shut their eyes to the 
truth, lest they should be laughed at — for 
acknowledging it 

Varieties. 1. Is not this world — a world 
of dreams, and the spirit-world — a world of 
realities ? 2. Some are only in the love of 
knowing what is good, and true ; ot tiers, of 
understanding them ; and others — of living 
according to them ; to which class do I be- 
long 1 3. Xerxes — whipped the sea, because 
it would not obey him. 4. That, which some 
people pride themselves in, often becomes 
the cause of their undoing ; and what they 
very much dislike, becomes the only thing 
that saves them. 5. Possession — is eleven 
points of the law : hence, never let a valua- 
ble thing go out of your possession, without 
an ample security. 6. The world below — 
is a glass, in which we may see the world 
above : remove the vail, and see where spirit, 
and matter are connected. 7. The heart-Mi 
prayer, only, is available ; and to produce it, 
there must be deep-Mt want ; and the strong- 
er it operates, the more perfect, and accepta' 
ble must be the prayer. 

" Oh ! tell me, step-dame Nature, tell. 

Where shall thy wayyard child abide? 
On what fair strand his spirit dwell, 

When life has spent its struggling tide? 
Shall hope no more her taper burn, 

QuencK'd — in the tears that sorrow sends? 
Nor from the feast, misfortune spurn 

The wishful wretch, that o'er it bends ?" 
" Can storied urn, or animated bust, 

Back to its mansion, call the fleeting breath 

Can honoris voice — provoke the silent dust? 

OrflatCry soothe the dull, cold ear of death* 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



lvS 



310. Emthasis— by prolongation, and de- 
pressed monotone : that is, quantity of voice 
on theirs/, second, or third note: it is some- 
times used in the grave and sublime, and pro- 
duces astonishing effects. Monotony— occurs 
when the voice is inflected neither up nor 
down, but is confined to a few words. The 

figures refer to the notes of ^he diatonic 
scale. The following free translation of a 
paragraph from one of Cicero's o ations, will 
aerve as a good illustration: but no one 
should attempt it, without committing it to 
memory. 

311. (Commence on the fotxiith note.) 
" I appeal to you — ye hills, and groves of 
(5) Atba, and your demolished (6) altars! I 
call you to (8) witness! (4) whether your 
(5) altars, your (6) divinities, your (8) pow- 
ers . (5) which Clodius had polluted with all 
kinds of (6) wickedness, (5) did not (4) avenge 
themselves, when this wretch was (3) extir- 
pated. (1) And thou, holy (2) Jupiter! (3) 
from the (4) height of this (5) sacred (6) 
mount, whose lakes — and groves — he had so 
often (3) contaminated." 

COLUMBIA ! Columbia ! to glory arise, 

The queen of the world, and the child of the shies; 

Thy genius commands thee ; with raptu/e oehold, 

While ages — on ages thy splendors unfold. 

Thy reign is the last — and the noblest of time ; 

Most fruitful thy soil, most inviting thy clime; 

Let the crimes of the east— ne'er encrimson thy name ; 

Be freedom, and science, and virtue— thy fame, 

3 13. The only way in which children, or 
adults, can be taught to read, or speak, natu- 
rally, is — to memorize short or longer sen- 
tences, and deliver them in a perfectly intelli- 
gent, impressive, and unrestrained manner. 
Abcdarians: first teach them the sounds of 
the vowels; then of the consonants, inter- 
spersing the exercises with select, or original 
sentences. Ex. " Time and tide — wait for 
no man." Or, if it is a rainy day, " This is 
a very rainy day." If pleasant, "This is a 
delightful day." Which sentences, after be- 
ing recited in concert, should be spoken by 
the class individually. In this way, even 
small children may be taught a great variety 
of things, natural and spiritual ; and an im- 
mense field of usefulness opened before the 
mind of the real teacher : i. e. one who teach- 
es from the love of teaching ; and no others 
should engage in it. 

Notes. I. Remember— the figures, placed before words in 
sentences, indicate the pitch of voice, and have reference to the 
diatonic note; they are aids to break up the monotonous delivery. 
i Still continue your efforts to smooth the apparent roughness of 
the notations, in regard to the dash, (— ) pauses, (,;:?!) and 
Emphasis: glide out of the mechanical into the natural. 

There is, in every human heart, 

Some — not completely barren part, 

Where seeds of truth— and love might grow, 

And flowers — of generous virtue blow ; 

To plant, to watch, to water there — 

This — be out dutv, and our cvrt. 

K 



I Proverbs. 1. A mind conscious of its inl'g. 
rity, — is a most noble possession. 2. In acquir- 
ing knowledge, consider how you may render it 
useful to society. 3. Avoid undue excitement on 
trivial occasions. 4 When engaged in a good 
cause, never look back. 5. Poverty — is no excuse 
for sinning-. 6. Never repeat in one company, 
what is said in another; for all conversation, is 
tacitly understood — to be confidential. 7. Let 
reason — go before every enterprise, and counsel — 
before every action. 8. Look on slanderers — ss 
enemies to society ; as persons destitute of honor, 
honesty, and humanity. 9. Divisions, and con- 
tentions — are upheld by pride, and self-love. 10. 
Patience, when subjected to trials that are to« 
severe, is sometimes converted into rage. 11. 
Avoid match-makers. 12. Virtue — is often 
laughed at. 

Anecdote. Lord Albermarle — was the 
lover of Mademoiselle Gaucher, (Gsm-shay.) 
As they were walking together one evening, 
he' perceived her eyes fixed on a star, and 
said to her " Do not look at it, my dear ,• I 
cannot give it you." "Never," says Mar- 
montel, " did love — express itself more deli- 
cately." 

ILaw — is law — law — is law; and as in 
such, and so forth, and hereby, and aforesaid, 
provided always, nevertheless, not withstand' 
ing. Law — is like a country dance ; people 
are led up and down in it, till they are tired. 
Law — is bike a book of surgery ; there are a 
great many desperate cases in it It is also 
like physic ; they that take the least of it, are 
best off. Law — is like a homely gentlcwo' 
man, very well to follow. Law — is also like 
a scolding tvife, very bad when it follows us. 
Law — is like a new fashion, people are 6e- 
witched to get into it: it is also like bad 
weatlier, most people are glad when they get 
out of it. 

Varieties. 1 . Are we not apt to be proud 
of that, which is not our own ? 2. It is a less 
crime — to gnaw a man's fingers with your 
teeth, than to mangle his reputation with 
your tongue. 3. It is better to yield grace- 
fully, than to be held up as a spectacle of 
vanquished, yet impertinent obstinacy. 4. 
Really learned persons — never speak of hav- 
ing finished their education: for they con- 
tinu e students, as Ion g as they live. 5 . Equivo- 
cation — is a mere expedient — to avoid telling 
the truth, without verbally telling a lie. 6. 
True philosophy and contempt of the Deity, 
are diametrically opposed to each other. 7. 
Sensual good, has sensual truth for its object; 
natural good has an order of natural truth, 
and spiritual good has spiritual truth, agree* 
ing with the spiritual sense of the Bible. 

"So flocks, that range the valley free, 

To slaughter — do I condemn : 
Taught by that power, that pities me, 

I learn to pity f hem. 



110 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



313. Rules. It is impossible to give 
rules — for reading every sentence, or indeed 
any sentence ; much more is left to the pupil, 
than can be written. All that is here at- 
tempted — is, a meagre outline of the subject; 
enough, however, for every one who is cider- 
mined to succeed, and makes the necessary 
application; and too much for such as are 
of an opposite character. The road is point- 
ad out, and all the necessaries provided for 
the journey ; but each must do the traveling, 
or abide the consequences. Be what ought 
to be, and success is yours. 

(8) No radiant pearl, which crested fortune wears, 

(4) No gem, that twinkling, hangs from beauty's ears: 

(5) Nor the bright stars, which night's blue arch adorn, 

(6) Nor rising sun — that gilds the eternal morn, — 
(8) Shine — with such lustre, as the tear that breaks, 
(6) For other's woe, down virtue's manly cheek. 

In reading, (rather reciting) these beautiful 
lines, the voice commences, as indicated by 
the figures, gradually rises, then yields a lit- 
tle; till it. comes to the word 'shine,' which 
is on the 8th note ; and then it gradually de- 
scends to the close; because such are the 
thoughts, and the feelings. Get the inside. ,- 
never live out of doors ; grasp the thoughts, 
and then let the words flow from feeling. 

314* Opening the Mouth. This is 
among the most important duties of the elo- 
cutionist, and singer ,- more fail in this par- 
ticular, than in any other : indistinctness and 
stammering are the sad effects of not open- 
ing the mouth wide enough. Let it be your 
first object to obtain the proper positions of 
the vocal organs : for which purpose, practice 
the vocal analysis, as here presented. The 
first effort is — separating the lips and teeth ; 
which will not only enable you to inhale and 
exhale freely, through the nose, when speak- 
ing and singing, but avoid uneasiness in the 
chest, and an unpleasant distortion of the fea- 
tures. The second is, a simultaneous action 
of the lips, teeth, and tongue: let these re- 
marks be indelibly stamped upon your 
memory ; for they are of immense practical 
importance. 

Anecdote. Alexander and the Pirate. 
We too often judge of men — by the splendor, 
and not the merit of their actions. Alexan- 
der — demanded of the Pirate, whom he had 
taken, by what right — he infested the seas ? 
"By the same rin-ht," replied he boldly. 
u that you enslave the world. J— am called a 
robber, because I have only one small vessel ; 
but you — are called a conqueror, because you 
command great fleets and navies."" 
The best contrived deceit — 

Will hurt its own contriver; 
And perfidy — doth often cheat — 
Its author's purse — of every stiver. 
The man, that's resolute, and just, 
Firmto his principles — and trust, 
N« tipes, nor fears,- -can bind. 



Proverbs. 1. A great fortune, in the hand* 
of a. fool, is a great mis-fortune. 2. Too manf 
resolve, then re- resolve, and die the same. 'X 
Never give the tongue full liberty, but keep it 
under control. 4. Character — is the measure oi. 
man and woman. 5. We may die of a surfeit, as 
well as of hunger. 6. Truth— is an ornament, 
and an instrument. 7. If we meet evil company, 
it is no reason we should keep it. 8. Provide 
for the worst, but hope for the best. 9. Though 
he is wise, that can teach tLc most, yet he, thsi 
learns, and practices what be learns, is wiser. 
10. Never be without good books. 11. Time — 
is the herald of truth. 12. Manners make the 
man. 13. Dissembled holiness, is double ini- 
quity. 14. Conscience — is in the chamber of 
justice. 

Oratory. Eloquence — may be considered 
as the soul, or animating principle of dis- 
course; and is dependent on intellectual 
energy, and intellectual atlainments. Elo- 
cution — is the embodying form, or represen- 
tative power ; dependent on exterior accom- 
plishments, and on the cultivation of the or- 
gans. Oratory — is the complicated and vital 
existence, resulting from the perfect harmony 
and combination, of Eloquence and Elocution. 

Varieties. 1. Is there not the same dif- 
ference — between actual and hereditary evil, 
as between an inclination to do a thing, and 
the commission of the act ? 2. Whoever haa 
nattered his friend successfully, must at once 
think himself a. knave, and his friend a fooL 

3. Unfriended, indeed, is he, who has no 
friend good enough — to tell him his faults. 

4. If those, who are called good singers, 
w T ere as sensible of their errors in reading, a? 
they would be, if similar ones were made 
in their singing, they would be exceedingly 
mortified, and chagrined, 5. The sacred 
light of Scripture — should be shed upon the 
canvas of the world's history, as well as or 
that of humanity. 6. The theology of crea- 
tion — was revealed to the earliest ages ; and 
the science of creation, is now beginning to 
be revealed to us. 7. What is most spiritual 
— is most rational, if rightly understood ; 
and it also admits of a perfect illustration — 
by rational and natural things: to follow 
God, and to follow right — and pure reason, 
is all one ; and we never give offence to Him< 
if we do that, which such a reason requires 

THE PROGRESS OF LIFE. 
I dreamed— I saw a little rosy child, 

With flaxen ringlets — in a garden playing ; 

Now stopping here, and then afar off straying, 
Asflower, or butterfly— bis feet beguiled. 

Twas changed. One summer's day I stept aside, 
To let him pass ; his face— and manhood seeming, 
And that full eye of blue— was fondly beaming 

On a fair maiden, whom he calle» J ' his Bride V 
Once more ; twas autumn, and the c heerful fire 

I saw a group — of youthful forms gurroundin-T. 

The room — with harmles* pleasantry resounding, 
And, in the midst, I marked the smiling Sire. 

The heavens were clouded ! and I heard the tern, 

Of a slow — moving bell — the white haired nun wn f*M.. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



li 



815. A.s Emphasis is the same thing as 
Accent, only more of it ; so, it is inseparably 
connected with the Pauses; indeed, what- 
ever distinguishes one word from the others, 
may be called Emphasis; which is some- 
times only another name for Expression : it 
is, at least, one of the mediums of expression. 
Hence, Emphasis is often exhibited in con- 
nection with a Rhetorical Fause, placed be- 
fore, or after, emphatic words, which may 
be elevated, or depressed^ with force and quan- 
tity, according to sentiment. When this 
pause is made after the important word, or 
words, it causes the mind to revert to what 
was last said; and when it is made before 
such word, the mind is led to anticipate 
something worthy of particular attention. 
The book is full of illustrations. 

316. Ex. 1. Bexevolexce — is one of the 
brightest gems— in the crown of christian per- 
fection. 2. Melody — is an agreeable succes- 
sion of sounds; Harmony — an agreeable 
concordance of sounds. 3. Homer — was the 
greater genius ; Virgil — the better artist : 
in one, we most admire the man; in the other 
— the work; Homer — hurries us with com- 
manding impetuosity ; Virgil — leads us with 
an attractive majesty. Horner — scatters with 
a generous profusion ; Virgil — bestows, with 
a careful magnificence. 4. What man could 
do, is done already; (8) Heaved — and (5) 
earth — will witness, — if — R-o-m-e — m-u-s-i 
f-u-ll, — that we are innocent. 

Note. Prolong the words with the hyphens between the 
letters. 

31T. Political Eco^oxt — teaches us 
to investigate the nature, sources, and proper 
uses of national wealth; it seems to bear the 
same relation to the whole country, that Do- 
mestic Economy does to an individual fami- 
ly: for, tho' it generally relates to the wealth 
of nations, it leads us to examine many points 
of comfort and well-being, that are closely 
connected with the acquisition, and expendi- 
ture of property. Its connection with legis- 
lation and government are self-evident ; yet 
every one may derive important lessons, from 
a knowledge of its facts and principles. 

Anecdote. All have their Care. Two 
merchants, conversing together about the 
hardness of the times, and observing a flock 
of pigeons, one said to the other, — "How 
happy those pigeons are ! they have no bills 
and acceptances to provide for." " Indeed," 
said the other, " you are much mistaken ; for 
they have their bills to provide for as well as 
toe." 

When adverse winds — and waves arise, 
And in my heart — despondence sighs; 
When life — her throng of cares reveals, 
And weakness — o'er my spirit steals, 
Grateful— I hear the kind decree, 
u Thai, as my day, my strength— shall be." 



Proverbs. 1. Nothing overcomes passion- 
sooner than silence. 2. Precepts — may lead, but 
examples — draw. 3. Rebel not against the dictates 
of reason and conscience. 4. Sincerity — is the pa- 
rent of truth. 5. The loquacity of fools— is a lec- 
ture to the wise. 6. Unruly passio7is — destroy th« 
peace of the soul. 7. Valor — can do but little, 
without discretion. 8. Modesty — is one of the chief 
ornaments of youth. 9. Never insult the poor, 
poverty — entitles one to our pity. 10. Our reputa 
tion virtue, and happiness — greatly depend on the 
choice of our companions. 11. Wisdom — is the 
greatest wealth. 12. Pride — is a great thief. 

Laconics. No more certain is it, that the 
flower was made to waft perfume, than that 
woman's destiny — is a ministry of love, a life 
of the affections. 

Varieties. 1. Those authors, (says Dr. 
Johnson,) are to be read at school, that supply 
most axioms of 'pnidence, and most principles 
of moral truth. 2. The little and short say- 
ings of wise and excellent men, (saith Bishop 
Tillotson,) are of great value ; like the dust 
of gold, or, the least sparks of diamonds. 3. 
The idle, who are wise rather for this world 
than the next, are fools at large. 4. Let all 
your precepts be succint, and clear, that 
ready wits may comprehend them. 5. None 
— better guard against a cheat, than he, who 
is a knave complete. 6. Scarcely an ill — to 
human life — belongs; but what our follies 
cause, or mutual icrongs. 7. What our Lord 
said to all, is applicable to all, at all times ; 
namely, " watch" — and it appears to relate 
to the admission of every thought and desire, 
into the mind. 

THE MOTHER PERISHING IN A SNOW-STORM. 
" In the year 1821, a Mrs. Blake perished in a snow-storm ia the 
night-time, while traveling over a spur of the Green Mon2tait» 
in Vermont. She had an infant with her, which was found alive 
and well in the morning, being carefully wrapped in the mother'* 
clothing," 
The cold winds — swept the mountain's height, 

And pathless — was the dreary wild, 
And, 'mid ihe cheerless hours of night, 

A mother wander'd — with her child: 
As through the drifting snow she press-d, 
The babe — was sleeping — on her breast. 
And colder still the winds did blow. 

And darker hours of night came on, 
And deeper grew the drifting snow : 

Her limbs — were chilPd, her strength — was gon*. 
"Oh, God!" she cried, in accents wild, 
" If /must perish, save my child!" 
She stripp'd her mantle from her breast, 

And bared her bosom to the storm, 
And round the child — she wrapped the vest, 

And smiled — to think her babe was warm 
With one cold kiss — one tear she shed, 
And sunk — upon her snowy bed. 
At dawn — a traveler passed by, 

And saw her — 'neath a snowy vail; 
The frost of death— was in her eye, 

Her cheek was cold, and hard, and pals, 
He moved the robe from off the child, 
The babe look'd up— '<nd sweetly si?iiled ' 






112 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION* 



318. Emthasis, in connection with the 
Rhetorical Pause. 1. A friend — cannot be 
known — in prosperity; and an enemy can- 
not be hidden — in adversity. 

Passions — are winds — to urge us o'er the wave, 
Reason — the rudder — to direct — or save. 
]{e — raised a mortal — to the skies, 
She — drew an angel — down. 
4. Charity — suffereth long, and is (3) kind : (4) 
charity — envieth not ; (5) charity — vaunteth 
not itself; (3) is not puffed up; (4) doth not 
behave itself (5) unseemly,- (6) sceketh not 
her own; (5) is not easUy (4) provoked ; (3) 
thinketh no evil; (5) rejoiceth — not in (4) 
iniquity, but (5) rejoiceth in the truth ; (4) 
beareth all things ; (5) believeth all things, (6) 
hopeth all things; (7) endureth all things; 
(6) charity — (8) jfEVEH faileth. 

319. The Three Degrees of Speech. 
There are three different modes in which one 
may read and speak ; only two of which, un- 
der any circumstances, can be right. The 
first is — reading and speaking by word, 
without having any regard to the sentiment ; 
the second is — reading or speaking only by 
word and thought ; and the third is — read- 
ing and speaking by word, thought and feel- 
ling — all combined, and appropriately man- 
i fested. In the Greek language, we find these 
three modes definitly marked by specific 
words, such as lalleo, eipo and EIRO. Chil- 
dren are usually taught the first, instead of 
the third, and then the second and third — 
combined: hence, very few of them ever 
have any conception of the meaning of the 
words they use, or of the subject matter about 
which they are reading : they seem to regard 
these as something foreign to the object. 
Here we again see the natural truth of an- 
other scripture declaration : " The letter kil- 
leth : the spirit giveth life." 

And from the prayer of want, the plaint of woe; 
Oli ! never, never — turn away thine ear : 
Forlorn, in this bleak wilderness below, [hear. 

Ah '. what were man, should Heaven — refuse to 
To others do — (the law is not severe;) 
What — to thyself— thou wishest to be done; 
Forgive thy foes, and love thy parents dear, 
And friends and native land; nor those alone,[own. 
AU human weal, or woe, learn thou to make thine 
Anecdote. Mahomet — made his people 
believe, that he would call a hill to him ; and, 
from the top of it, offer up his prayers for the 
observers of his law. The people assembled ; 
Mahomet called the hill again and again to 
come to him ; and the hill not moving, he 
was not at all abashed at it ; but put it off 
with a jest ; saying — " If the hill will not 
come to Mahomet, he — will go to the hill" 

When people — onee are in the wrong, 

Each line they add — is much too long ; 

Who fastest walks, but walks astray, 

\s only furthest-- from his way. 



Proverbs. 1. Every tiling— tends to educate 
us. 2. Always have a good object in view. 3. Ac- 
tions— should be led by knowledge ; and knowledge 
followed by actions. 4. It is better to be saved with- 
out a precedent, than damned by example. 5. There 
is no security among evil companions. 6. Never be 
unwilling to teach, if you knoiv ; nor ashamed to 
learn, if you can. 7. Better yourself when young ; 
you will want rest in old age. 8. When you find 
yourself inclined to be a i&ry, speak in a lout torn 
of voice. 9. Bear — zn&J'ortear — is excellent phi- 
losophy. 10. Seek — and practice — the truth, and 
you are made— forever. 11. Lookers on see, more 
than players. 12. Wake net a sleeping lion. 

Laconics. Sincerity — should be the pru- 
ning-knife of friendship, and not the mon- 
ster scythe — of an unfeeling rudeness, which, 
for one weed that it eradicates, mows down a 
dozen of those tender flowers, which bloom — 
only on our affections. 

Varieties. 1. Our Orators, (says Cicero,) 
are, as it were, the actors of truth itself,- 
and the players are the imitators of truth. 
2. Whence this disdain of life, in every 
breast, but from a notion — on their minds 
impress'd, that all, who, for their country die, 
are blessed. 3. You'll find the friendship of 
the world — is show ; all — outward show. 
4. Errors, like straws upon the surface flow: 
He, who would search for psarls — must diva 
below. 5. What you keep by you, you may 
change and mend; but words, once spoke, 
can never be recalled. 6. Let thy discourse 
be such, that thou mayest give profit to oth- 
ers, or, from them receive. 7. Beware of ever 
exceeding the boundaries of truth, in any 
form ; for the mind loses strength, whenev- 
er it puts its foot beyond the circle, or passes 
the boundaries. 

THE HARVEST MOON. 

All hail! thou lovely queen of night, 

Bright empress of the stary -eky! 
The meekness — of thy silvery light 

Beams gladness — on the gazer's eye, 
While, from thy peerless throne on high 

Thou shinest bright — as cloudless noon, 
And bidd'st the shades of darkness fly 

Before thy glory — Harvest moon ! 
In the deep stillness of the night, 

When weary labor is at rest, 
How lovely is the scene ! — how bright 

The wood — the lawn — the mountain's breast 
When thou, fair moon of Harvest, hast 

Thy radiant glory all unfurled, 
And sweetly smilest in the west, 

Far down — upon the silent world. 
Shine on, fair orb of light! and smile 

Till autumn months — have passed away, 
And labor— hath forgot the toil 

He bore — in summers sultry ray ; 
And when the reapers — end the day, 

Tired with the burning heat of noon, 
They'll come — with spirits light and gay , 

And bless thee— lovely Harvest Moon '. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



113 



330. Emphasis — by a pause just before, 
or after, the important word. The pause be- 
fore — awaktns curiosity, and excites expec- 
tation ; after — carries back the mind to what 
was last said. How would a tyrant, after 
Having ruled with a rod of iron, and shown 
compassion to none, speak of his own death, 
m allusion to the setting sun, in a tropical 
climate ; where the sun is severely hoi as long 
as it shines, and when it sets, it is very soon 
dark? 1. (5) "And now — my race — of ter- 
ror — run, (C) Mine — be the eve — of tropic (6) 
tun; No pale (6) gradations — quench his 
ray; (5) No twilight (7) dews — his wrath al- 
lay : (4) With (5) disk, (like battle target)— 
red,- (6) He rushes — t' his burning bed, (5) 
Dyes the wide wave — with bloody (6) light ; 
Then sinks — at once — (2) and all is (1) 
night.''' The last clause, pronounced in a 
deep monotone, and a pause before it, adds 
much to its beauty and grandeur. 2. " Will 
all great Neptune's ocean — wash — this blood 

■clean — from my hands'? No: these, my 
nands, will rather the multitudinous sea — in- 
mrnadine: making the green— (1) one red." 
Macbeth' s hands are so deeply stained, that, 
to wash them in the ocean, would make it red 
with blood. 

SATAN, LAMENTING THE LOSS OF HEAVEN, AND 
INVOKING HELL. 

" Is this the region, this the soil, the clime," — 
■•'aid then the lost archangel, "this tk2 seat, 
That we mast change. — for heaven .' 
This the mournful gloom— 

For that celestial light ? Farewell, happy fi elds, 
Where joy— forever dwells. Hail, horrors, — hail 
Infernal world ! And thou — profoundest hell, 
Receive— thy new— possessor .'" 

the drunkard. 
* Hand me the bowl — ye jocund land,"' — 

He said, " 'twill rouse my mirth ;" 
But conscience — seized his trembling hand, 

And dashed the cup — to earth. 

He looked around, he blushed, he laugh'd, — 

He sipped the sparkling wave; 
'n it. he read, — " who drinks this draught, 

Shall fill — a murderer's grave." 

lie grasped the bowl. — to seek relief; — 

No more — his conscience said; 
His fcosom-friend — was sunk in grief 

Ills children — liegged for bread. 

Thro' haunts of horror — and of strife, 

Ho passed down— life's dark tide; 
He cursed — his beggared babes — and wife, 

He cursed his God, — and died.' 

331. Creation. If we studied creation 
more, our minds would much sooner become 
developed; then, the heavens, the earth, the 
water, with their respective, various, and nu- 
merous inhabitants, the productions, natures, 
sympathies, antipathies ; their uses, benefits 
and pleasures, would be better understood by 
us : and eternal ivisdom, power, majesty and 
gaxhtess, would be very conspicuous, thro' 
liUUNlSON. § 



their sensible and passing forms; the world, 
wearing the marks of its Maker, whose stamp 
is everywhere visible, and whose cficracter 
is legible to all, who are willing to under- 
stand, and would become happy. 

Proverbs. 1. An oak tree— is not felled witii 
a blow. 2. Beware of him, who is obliged to 
guard his reputation. 3. Concealing faults — is 
but adding to them. 4. Defile not your mouth with 
impure words. 5. Envy — preys on itself; flattery 
— is nauseous — to the truly wise. 6. Gluttony — 
kills more than the sword. 7. Hasty resolution* 
seldom speed well. 8. Inconstancy — is the attend- 
ant of a weak mind. 9. Keep good company, 
and be one of the number. 10. While one is ba*€, 
none can be entirely free and noble. 11. Sin — K 
the parent of disease. 12. Oftener ask, than decidt 
questions. 13. Avoid all superfluities. 

Anetdote. Witty Reply. A gentleman 
lately complimented a lady, on her improved 
appearance. "You are guilty of flattery," 
said the lady. "Not so," replied he; "for 
you are as plump as a partridge." "At 
first," said she,—" I thought you guilty of 
flattery only ; but I now find you actually 
make game of me."' 

Marlt to Hit. Never forget, that by your 
advancement, you have become an object of 
envy — to those whom you have outstripped 
— in the race of life, and a tacit reproach — to 
their want of energy or capacity, which they 
never forgive. You must, therefore, lay youi 
account — to be made a mark for " envy, ha- 
tred, and malice, and all uncharitableness" 
Varieties. 1. We hav*> three orders, or 
degrees of faculties ; the gious, aivil and 
scientific ; the first, regains the Deity; the 
second, Humanity ,• and the third, Nature ; 
i. e. the Workman and his works. 2. It is 
the object of the Bible—to teach religious, ra- 
ther than scientific truths. 3. Cannot our 
minds— be imbued with the spirit of heaven ; 
or tainted with the breath of Hell ? 4. In 
man, we see blended the geological, the vege- 
table, and animal : to which is superadded, 
the human; all harmonizing, and yet each 
successive series predominates over the pre- 
ceding one; till at length, the human rises 
above every thing ; earth— passes away, and 
heaven— is all in all. 5. Let your trust be sa 
implicit— in the Divine Providence, that all 
things will be disposed for the best, after you 
have done the part assigned, that your only 
care shall be, how you may perform the 
greatest amount of good, of which your being 
is capable. 

This world's a hive, you know, Is. kjc, 
Whose bees — are men, ('tis Yue as funny,) 

And some — fill cells — with bitter bread, 
While othtrs gather sweetest honey; 

Yet each, alike, his duly does, 

Each — brings what's needful for the otim: 

Though divers uays — they hum and buz, 
Yet all obey the common mcth.tr. 



114 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



332. Emphasis. On every page may be 
found neatly all the principles of elocution; 
and in aiming at a compliance with the rules 
given, great care must be taken to avoid a 
stiff, and formal mode of reading and speak- 
ing. We must never become enslaved to 
thought alone, which rules with a rod of iron : 
but yield to feeling, when it is to predomi- 
nate : in a perfect blending of feeling, thought 
and action, there is all the freedom and grace- 
fulness of nature ; provided they are in har- 
mony with nature. It is better to be natural, 
than mechanically correct. Every thought 
and feeling has its peculiar tone of voice, by 
which it is to be expressed, and which is ex- 
actly suited to the degree of internal feeling : 
in the proper use of these tones, most of the 
life, spirit, beauty, and effect of delivery con- 
sists. Hence, emphasis, or expression, is al- 
most infinite in variety ; yet none should be 
discouraged; because we cannot do every 
thing, is no reason why we should not try to 
do something. 

323. Miscellaneous. 1. In your con- 
versation, be cautious what you speak, to 
whom you speak, hoiv you speak, when you 
speak ; and what you speak, speak wisely, 
and truly. 2. A fool's heart — is in his tongue; 
but a wise man's tongue — is in his heart. 3. 
Few things — engage the attention. — and af- 
fections of men — more than a handsome ad- 
dress, and a graceful conversation. 4. For 
one — great genius, who has written a little 
book, we have a thousand — little geniuses, 
who have written great books. 5. Words — 
are but air ; and both — are capable of much 
condensation. 6. Nature — seldom inspires 
a strong desire for any object, without fur- 
nislung the ability — to attain it. 7. All — is 
not gold — that glitters. 8. If I were an 
American — as I am an Englishman, while 
a foreign troop — was landed in my country, 
I never — would lay down my arms ; no, — (5) 
never! (4) never! (2) never! 9. The price 
of Liberty — is eternal vigilance. 10. The 
true disciples of Nature, are regardless who 
conducts them, provided she be the leader ; 
for Nature, like truth — is immutable. 
There is a tide — in the affairs of men, 
Which, taken at the flood, — leads on to fobtuxe ; 
Omitted, all the voyage of their life — 
Is hound in shallotvs — and in miseries : 
On surh a full sea — are we — now afloat, 
And we must take the current, when it serves, 
Or lose our ventures. 

Anecdote. One thing at a time. The 
famous pensioner of Holland, who was the 
greatest genius of his lime, and a famous pol- 
itician, on being asked, how he could trans- 
act such o. variety of business, without con- 
fusion, replied, that he never did but one 
thing at a time. 

Face to fact — the truth comes out. 



Proverbs. 1. The f t n& n o ulatge of an at 

proaching «•/<!. is a benefit of no small magnitude 
2. We may get R world of false lore, for a littit 
honesty. 3. The love of mankind — may be good 
while it lasts j but the love of God — is everlasting. 
4, Too many condemn the just, and not a fevs 
justify the wicked. 5. Some people's threats — are 
larger than their hearts. (5. Discreet stages-make 
short journeys. 7. Imitate the good, but avoid the 
evil. S. Rather do good, without a pattern, than 
evil, by imitation. 9. Prize a good character abova 
any other good. 10. Well qualified teachers — are 
benefactors of their race. 11. Plain dealing is a 
jewel. 12. Perfect love — casteth out fear. 

Science. Science, the partisan of ?io coun- 
try, but the beneficent patroness of all, haa 
liberally opened a temple, where all may 
meet. She never inquires about the country, 
or sect, of those who seek admission; she 
never allots a higher, or a lower place, from 
exaggerated national claims, or unfounded 
national antipathies. Her influence on the 
mind, like that of the sun on the chilled 
earth, has long been preparing it for higher 
cultivation and farther improvement. The 
philosopher of one country should not see an 
enemy in the philosopher of another; he 
should take his seat in the temple of science, 
and ask not who sits beside him. 

Varieties. 1. Is not the innocence of 
flowers enough to make wicked persons hint h 
— to behold it 7 2. Are there not as many 
beautiful flowers in the other world, as there 
are in this ? 3. Those are the best diversions, 
that relieve the mind, and exercise the body, 
with the least expense of time and money. 
4. Give us knowledge of our own, and we 
will persevere. 5. Let us call tyrants — ty- 
rants : and maintain, that freedom comes 
only, by the g>-ace of God. 
Truth — needs no champion; in the infinite deep 
Of everlasting Soul — her strength abides : 
From Nature's heart — her mighty pulses leap. — 
Through Nature's veins, hcrstrength, undying, tides 
Peace—is more strong than tear; and gentleness. 
When force were vain, makes conquests o'er tho 
AndLO^E lives on, and hath a power to bless, [wave; 
When th'y, who loved, are hidden — by the grave. 
Tis not a century — since they, 
The red men, traversed here, 
And o'er these pleasant hills and vales, 

Pursued the bounding deer; 
Here, too, that eloquence was poured 

Around the council light, 
That made the sturdy warrior bold., 

And ready for the fight! 
And oft they came — exulting back, 

The husband, sire and sou, 
To vaunt before their savage shrint* 

The ill — their hands had done " 
Vet, of their mortal weal or woe, 

No trace ; <s left tn-day ; 
For- like the/oa»n upon the wave, 
Thev all nave passed atenv • 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



115 



$24 Shouting, or High and Loud — im- 

S lying force of utterance. The last words of 
larmion afford excellent means, when me- 
morized, for the student to try the compass of 
his voice upwards, as well as its power on 
high fitches. It is not often that these high 
Kid almost screaming notes are required in 
public speaking: yet, there are times, espe- 
cially in the open air, when they may be in- 
troduced with great effect. And it is always 
well to have an inexhaustible capital of voice, 
as of money ; indeed, there is no danger of 
having too much of either, provided we make 
a proper use of them. In giving the word of 
command, on occasions of fire, erecting build- 
ings, on the field of battle, martial exercise, 
&c, power and compass of voice are very 
desirable. 

325. 1. " The war, that for a space did 
fail, Now, trebly thundering, swell'd the 
gale, And (10) " Stanley !" (6) was the cry : 
A light on Marmion's visage spread, and 
fired his glazing eye : With dying hand, 
above his head, he shook the fragment of' 
his blade, and shouted (8) " VICTORY !" 
(9) Charge ! Chester, (10) charge ! Ox, 
(11) STANLEY— (12) ON!" {3) Were the 
last words of Marmion. 2. (6) Liberty ! 
(8) FREEDOM! (5) Tyranny is dead! 
(6) Run (7) hence ! proclaim it about the 
streets! 3. The combat deepens: (4) 
"ON ! ye brave ! Who rush — to (6) glo- 
ry, — or the (3) grave; (9) Wave — Munich ! 
all thy (10) banners wave ! (8) And charge — 
with a_l thy (3) chivalry." 

926. Constitutional Law, in its ex- 
tended sense, includes the study of the con- 
stitutions, or fundamental laws of the vari- 
ous Nations: i. e. the structure, and mechan- 
ism of iheir government, and the appoint- 
ments, -powers, and duties of their officers. 
The United States Constitutional Law, may 
be considered under five different heads ; 
viz : Legislative Power, Executive Power, 
Judicial Power, State Rights Restrictions, 
and United States Statutes and Treaties. 
The Legislative power is vested in a Con- 
gress, consisting of a Senate and House of 
Representatives, elected by the people, or 
their State Legislatures ; the Executive pow- 
er, in a President, who holds his office four 
years ; the Judicial power, in a Supreme 
Court, which consists of one Chief Justice, 
and eight Associate Justices, and in such 
inferior courts, as Congress may ordain, or 
establish. State rights and restrictions — are 
powers not delegated by the Constitution to 
the United States, nor prohibited by it to the 
States, but reserved to the States, respect- 
ively, or to the people. 

Anecdote. Patience. A youth, who was 
a trapil of Zeno, on his return home, was ask- 
ed* by his father, -' what he had learned?" 
The lad replied, " that will appear hereaf- 
ter.' 1 '' Or. this, the father, being enraged, beat 
bis son ; who, bearing it patiently, and with- 
»uf. complaining, said, " This have 1 learn- 

mI, to endure a parenfs anger." 

Raiher suffer wrong than do wrong. 



Proverbs. 1. A bitter jest — :s the poison of 
friendship. 2. Be ever vigilant, but never suspi- 
cious. 3. Cheerfulness — is perfectly consiste/i! 
witli true piety. 4. Demonstration — is the best 
mode of instruction. 5. Entertain not sin, lest you 
like its company. 6. Finesse — is unworthy of a 
liberal mind. 7. Good counsel — is above all prict 
8. Hearts— may agree, tho' heads— differ. 9. Idle- 
ness — is the parent of want, shame, and misiry, 
10. Learn to live, as ycu would wish to die. U. 
Content— is the highest bliss. 12. Vex not yourself, 
when ill spoken of. 

Force of Habit. Habit — hath so vast a 
prevalence over the human mind, that there 
is scarcely any thing too strange, or tco 
strong, to be asserted of it. The story of 
the miser, who, from long accustoming to 
cheat others, came at last to cheat himself, 
and with great delight and triumph picked 
his own pockot of a guinea, to convey to hia 
hoard, is not impossible or improbable. In 
like manner it fares with the practisers of 
deceit, who, from having long deceived 
their acquaintance, gain at last a power of 
deceiving themselves, and acquire that very 
opinion, however false, of their own abili- 
ties, excellences, and virtues, into which 
they have for years, perhaps, endeavored to 
betray their neighbors. 

Varieties. 1. Eternity, (wrote a deaf 
and dumb boy,) is the Hfeume of the Deity, 
2. No evil can be successfully combaited, or 
removed, but from the opposite good, from a 
desire for it, and an attachment to it; i. e. 
till the mind is perfectly willing to relinquish 
the evil. 3. A man's ruling love — governs 
him ; because, what he loves, he continues 
to will. 4. Sweet harmonist, and beautiful 
as sweet, and young as beautiful, and soft as 
young, and gay as soft, and innocent as gay. 
5. Had Caesar genius? he was an oraicr .' 
Had Caesar judgment ? he was a politician '. 
Had Caesar valor? he was a conqueror.' 
Had Caesar feeling ? he was a friend! 6. 
Music — is one of the sweetest flowers of the 
intellectual garden; and, in relation to ita 
power — to exhibit the passions, it may be 
called — the universal language of nature. 
7. Whatever the immediate cause, may be, 
the effect is so far good, as men cease to do 
evil, they learn to do toell. 

THE FISHERMAX. 

A perilous life, and sad — as life may be, 
Hath the lone fisher— on the lonely sea; 
In the wild waters laboring, far from home. 
For some poor pittance, e'er compelled 10 ro«tn! 
Few friends to cheer him — in his dangerous life, 
And none to aid him — in the stormy strife. 
Companion of the sea and silent air, 
The lonely fisher thus must ever fare ; 
Without the comfort, hope — with scarce a friend 
He looks through life, and only sees — its end! 

" Thou art, O God! the life and light 
Of all this wondrous world we see ; 

Its glow by day, its smile by night, 
Are but refiectiojis — caught from thee! 

Where'er w r e turn, thy glories shine, 

And ali things bright and fair -are thine " 



iifl 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



3'27. St'EAKiNo the Gauntlet. We 
have all heard of the practice, that prevails 
among some tribes oi Indians, called l 'run- 
mtng the gauntlet;" when a company ar- 
range themselves in two rows, a few yards 
apart, and their ■prisoner is obliged to run 
between them ; when each throws his hatchet 
at him; and if he passes through without 
being killed, he is permitted to live. In the 
important exercise, here recommended, each 
member of the class, after making some 
proficiency, memorizes and recites, a strong 
and powerful sentence, and the others try To 
put out, or break down, the one that is 
speaking, by all sorts of remarks, sounds, 
looks, and actions; tho' without touching 
him : and the gauntlet speaker, girds up the 
loins of his mind, and endeavors to keep the 
fountain oi feeling higher than the streams :l 
and so long, he is safe; but alas for him I 
that shrinks into himself, and yields to his 
opponents. 

But this, — and ills severer — he sustains: 
As gold — ihefne, and. as unhurt remains: 
When most reviled, altho' he feels the smart, 
It wakes — to nobler deeds — the wounded hearty 
The noble mind — unconscious of a fault, 
No fortune's frown — can bend, or smiles — exalt: 
Like the firm rock — that in mid-ocean — brave^ 
The war of whirlwinds, and the dash of waves: 
Or, like a tower — he lifts his head on high — I 
Andfortune's arrows — far below him fly. 1 

328. Mouthing. Some — think that 
words are rendered more distinct, to large 
assemblies, by dwelling longer on the sylla- 
bles ; others, that it adds to the pomp and 
solemnity of public declamation, in which , 
they think every thing must be different^ 
from private discourse. This is one of the 
vices of the stage, and is called theatricul 
in opposition to what is natural. By "trip 
pingly on the tongue," Shakspeare probabl) 
means — the bounding of the voice from ac> 
cent to accent ; trippingly along from word* 
to word, without resting on syllables by the;' 
way. And, by "mouthing,'''' dwelling o«i 
syllables, that have no accent, and ought 
therefore to be pronounced as quickly as i| 
consistent with a proper enunciation. Avoid 
an artificial air, and hold, as it were, the 
mirror up to nature. See the difference in 
the following, by pronouncing them wiih 
the accent, extending thro 1 the whole word, 
in a drawling tone, and then, giving them 
properly: con-;ec-ture, en-croacA-ment. hap- 
pi-ness, graf-i-tude, /or-tu-nate-ly ; which 
is very far from true solemnity, which is in 
I he spirit; not alone in the manner. 

Anecdote. A student in college — carried 
a manuscript poem, of his own composition, 
to his tutor, for his inspection. The tutor, 
after looking it over, inquired the author's 
r>xtson, for beginning every line with a capi- 
tal letter, " Because it is poetry," said the 
gtndent. " It is!" said the teacher, " I de- 
clare, I should not have thought it. 11 

By frequent use — experience — gains its growth, 
But knowledge— flies from laziness and sloth, 



iew \ 
of 



Proverbs. 1. Soft hands, and soft brs.ins- 
generally go together. 2. Let time be the judge, , 
and common sense the jury. 3. Cherish an ar- i 
dent love of nature and of art. 4. The region ^ 
beyond the grave, is not a solitary one. 5. Each 
night — is the past day's funeral: and each morn — 
its resurrection. G. Better be exalted by humility, 
than brought low by exaltation. 7. Tight-lacing — 
is a gradual suicide, and tends to enkindle im- 
pure desires. 8. Good manners — are always be- 
coming. 9. The candid man has nothing to con- 
ceal ; he speaks nothing but truth. 10. Plato 
said — read much ; but read not many books. 11. 
Marry in haste; repent at leisure. 12. If you will 
not keep, you cannot have. 13. Prune off" useleei 
branches. 

Government. It is time that men should \ 
learn to tolerate nothing ancient, that reason I 
does not respect, and to shrink from no nov~ J 
elly, to which reasoJi may conduct. It is/ 
time that the human powers, so long occu 
pied by subordinate objects and inferior arts, 
should mark the commencement of a new 
era in history, by giving birth to the art 
improving government, and increasing the 
civil happiness of man. It is time, that le 
gislators, instead of that narrov) and das- 
tardly coasting, which never ventures to 
lose sight of usage and precedent, should, 
guided by the polarity of reason, hazard a 
bolder navigation, and discover, in unex- / 
plored regio?is, the treasure of public feli-j 
city. 

Varieties. 1. Did not Mr. Pitt, by the 
force of his eloquence, raise himself to be 
the prime minister of England? 2. A rich 
man's son — generally begi?is — where his 
father left off; and e?ids — where his father 
began — pennyless. 3. A proneness to talk 
of persons, instead of things, indicates a/ 
narrow, and superficial mind. 
The world — may scorn me, if they choose ; I care 
But little for their scoffing*: I may sink 
For moments ; but I rise again, nor shrink 
From doing — what the faithful heart inspires 
I will not flatter. 
At what high mou 
I have a loftier 

Be humble — learn thyself 'to scan 

Know — pride — was never made for man. 
6. Where there is emulation — there will be 
vanity; and where there is vanity, there 
will be folly. 7 Each man has his proper 
standard to fight under, and his peculiar duly 
to perform : one tribe's office — is not that 
of another: neither is the inheritance tht 
same. 

I wander — by the mountain's side, 
Whose peaks— reflect the parting lay, 

Or stoop — to view the river glide 
In silvery ripples — on its way. 

The turf is green, the sky is blue, 
The sombre trees — in silence rest. 

Save where a songster — rustle? through 
The drooping foliage — to his r.est; 

Yet one thing — wants the pilgrim tfcere— 

A kindred soul, the scene to share. 



) 



rhat the faithful heart inspires ■ 
r, fawn, nor crouch, nor wink 
lounted wealth, or power desires; 
:r aim — to which my soul aspires. / 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



117 



329. Revision. Before entering on a con- 
sideration of the Inflections, and other higher 
modifications of voice, the pupil is again ear- 
nestly solicited— to review all the principles, 
that have been brought forward ; especially 
all that relates to Accent, Pauses, Emphasis, 
and the alphabet of music, or the eight notes ; 
and, in this revision, be careful not to coiv- 
found one principle with another; as stress 
with quantity, high sounds with loud ones, 
and low ones with feeble. Remember, that 
stress is a quick blow, or ick-tus of the voice ; 
quantity—length of sound ; high sounds — on, 
or above the sixth note; loud ones— halloo- 
ing ; low sounds — on, or below the third note ; 
feeble ones, softly, as from weakness. Prac- 
tice the examples, till you make them fit you, 
and produce on yourselves and others, the de- 
sired effects. 

330. I came to the place of my birth, and 
said ; " The friends of my youth— where are 
they!" And echo answered, — " Where ?"< 
2. When the Indians were solicited to emi- 
grate to the West, they replied ; What ! shall 



we say, to the bones of our fathers— Arise ! help you/' The truth is, that God has helped 



and go with us into a foreign land ? 

The truly lovely — 
Are not the fair, who boast but of outward grace, 
The nought, but beautiful of form, and face ; 
They — are the lovely — they, in whom unite, [light, 
Earth's fleeting charms — with virtue's heavenly 
Who, tho' they wither, — yet, with faded bloom — 
Bear their all of sweetness — to the tomb. 

Notes. 1. Such is the careless and ignorant manner in 
which many have been permitted to come up, instead of being 
brought tip, that it will often be found necessary to use a variety of 
means to become divested of bad habits and their consequence*. 
a Probably the lungs suffer more than any other part of the 
body, by being cooped up in a small cavity. To enlarge the chest, 
side-wise, practice the elevation of the elbows to a horizontal plane 
nearly level with the shoulders, and commence gently tapping the 
breast between the shoulders, the ends of the fingers of both hands 
being nearly together ; and then, during the exercise, strike back 
from the sternum toward each shoulder, drawing the hands far- 
ther and farther apart, till the ends of the fing-ere reach the arm- 
pits, and even out on the arm, without depressing the elbows: 
try it, and you will see and know. 

Anecdote. Flying To; not From. Some 
/ears ago, a person requested permission of the 
Bishop of Salisbury, in England, to fly from 
the spire of his church. The good bishop, 
with an anxious concern for the man's spiri- 
tual, as well as temporal safety, told him, he 
was very welcome to fly to the church ; but 
he would encourage no one to fly from it. 

TOE BUTTERFLY. 

Child of the sun! pursue thy rapturous flight, 
Mingling with her thou lov'st— in fields of light ; 
And, where the flowers of Paradise unfold, 
<4uaff fragrant nectar — from their cups of gold, 
There shall thy wings, rich as an evening sky, 
Expand — and shut — in silent ecstasy. 
Yet, wert thou once a worm, a thing, that crept 
On the bare earth, then wrought a tomb, and slept; 
And such — is man ; soon, from his cell of clay, 
Xo barst a seraph— : n the blaze jf day. 



Proverbs. 1. Pride— Is the greatest enemy 
to reason ; and discretion — ihe great opposite of 
prule. 2. The wise — shape their apparel to ino 
body ; the proud — shape their body to their appa- 
rel. 3. A sound and vigorous mind, in a healthy 
body, is an invaluable possession. 4. Experience — 
is the mother of the arts. 5. He, is never tired of 
listening, who wishes to gain knowledge. 6. Bet- 
ter consider for a day, than repent for a year. 7. 
Economy — is the foundation of liberality, and the 
parent of independence. 8. Use no tobacco, if you 
would be decent, clean, and healthy. 9. The path 
of literature is more difficult, than that which letds 
to fortune. 10. That which is well dene, is twit* 
done. 11. Of a little— take a little. 12. A hasty 
man — never wants woe. 

Providence. If a man lets his hand lie 
in the ice, it is highly probable Providence 
will ordain it to be frozen ; or if he holds it 
in the^ire, to be burnt. Those who go to sea, 
Providence will sometimes permit to be 
drowned ; those, on the other hand, who ne- 
jver quit dry ground, Providence will hardly 
puffer to perish in the sea. It is therefore 
/justly said, " Help yourself, and Heaven will 



us from the beginning ; the work of the 
master is completed ; and, so far as it was 
intended to be so, perfect ; it requires, there- 
fore, no further extraordinary aids and cor- 
rections from above ; its further development 
and improvement in this world is placed in 
our own hands. We may be good or bad, 
wise or foolish, not always perhaps in the 
degree which we, as individuals, might 
choose, were our wills perfectly free, but so 
far as the state of the human race, imme- 
diately preceding us, has formed us to decide. 

"Varieties. 1. Is animal, or human mag- 
netism, true? 2. When the spirit is deter- 
mined, it can do almost anything ; therefore, 
never yield to discouragement in doing, or 
getting, what is good and true. 3. What 
temptation is greater, than permitting young 
persons, and especially young men, in this 
degenerate world, to handle much money, 
that is not their own. 4. Exhibit such an 
example in your dress, conversation, and 
temper, as will be worthy of imitation. 5. 
We often hear it said, "that people, and 
things, are changed." Is it not oursel x$ 
that have changed! The heart— makes all 
around, a mirror of itself. 

Heal glory — 

Springs from the silent conquest of ourselves , \ 

And, without that — the conqueror is nought, 

But the first slave. 
7. Every word, spoken from affection, leaves ' 
an everlasting impression in the mind ; every 
thought, spoken from affection, becomes a 
living creation ; and the same also, if not 
spoken,— if it be fully assented to by the mind. 
When the stem dies, the leaf, that grew 
Out of its heart, must perish too. 



IIP 



PRINCIPLES CF ELOCUTION. 



331. Evi .u emotion of the mind has its 
own external manifestation; so that no one 
emotion can bo accommodated to another. 
observe the native eloquence of a hungry 
child, when asking for a piece of bread and 
Initter ; especially, the third or fourth time ; 
and mark its emphasis, and tones : also the 
qualities of voice, with winch it expresses its 
grief, anger, joy, <&c. The manner of each 
passion is entirely different ; nor does it ever 
apply one for another ,- indeed, children in 
their own efforts, always make the proper 
emphasis, inflections, and gestures; and they 
are graceful in all, when under the sole influ- 
ence of nature. Thus, from nature, unso- 
phistocated, may he derived the whole art of 
speaking. The author is free to acknow- 
ledge, that he has learned more about true 
eloquence, from children, and the Indians, 
and his consequent practice, than from all 
other sources. 

332. Cicero — copied, and imitated, every 
body ; he was the very mocking-bird of el- 
oquence, which is his greatest distinction, 
and glory : for who so various as he ; who so 
sweet, so powerful, so simply eloquent, or so 
magnificently flowing, and each, and all, by 
t urns '.' His mind was a perfect pan-harmon- 
icon. Your original writer, — your original 
character, has no sympathies ; he is heart- 
oound, brain-bound and Zt/>bound; he is tru- 
ly an oddity ,- he is like r.o-body, and no-body 
is like him; he feeds on self-adoration, or 
the adulation of fools; who mistake the ora- 
cles of pride and vanity, for the inspirations 
of genius. 

333. There are some, even in this enlight- 
ened age, who affect to despise the acquisi- 
tion of elocution, and other important and 
useful accomplishments; but such persons 
are generally very awkward themselves, and 
dislike the application and 'practice, that are 
necessary to render them agreeable and im- 
pressive speakers. It is an old adage — that 
many — despise that, which they do not pos- 
sess, and which they are too indolent to at- 
tain. Remember the fox and the grapes. 

Anecdote. A colonel was once com- 
plaining, that from the ignorance, and inat- 
tention of the officers, he was obliged to do the 
whole duty of the regiment. Said he, " I am 
my own captain, my own lieutenant, my own 

cornet, and"' "Your own trumpeter" 

said a lady present. 

NOW came still evening on, and twilight gray 
Had, in her sober livery, all things clad. 
Silence — accompanied ; for least, and bird, 
They, to their graisy a/uch, these — to their ntrf 
Were sunk, all, but the wakeful nightingale ; 
She, all night long, her amorous decant sung ; 
Silence — was pleased. Now glow'd the firmament 
With living sapphires: Hesperus, that ltd 
Th« starry host, roie 1/rightetl ; till ♦he moon, 
Ricing ia clouded majesty, at length 
Apparent qiuen, unvail'd her peerless light, 
And o'er th# darA htr silver mantle threw. 



Proverbs. 1 V xt.tt. governor, wc%»«d ra'hel 
preserve peace, tl. n gain a victory. 2. It i% 
sometimes a benefit, to grant favors, ami at other 
Dines, lodtny then- 3. An a ngry person s an- 
gry with himself, w en he returns to reason. 4. 
Wherever you are, conform to the usual cus- 
toms and maimers of il e country. 5. To encourage 
the unworthy, is to promote vice. 6. Ingratittu!* 
to the benevolent — generally ends in disgrace. 7 
Esteem virtue, tho' in a foe: abhor vice, tho' in a 
friend. 8. The more one speaks of himsttf, lbs 
'.ess willing is he, to hear another talked about 
9. Nature — is always content with herself ltt 
Form your opinio*! of a person, Ly his questions, 
rather than by his answers. Li. SKy — can wis- 
dom — e'er reside, t» 1th passim, envy, hate, or 
pride? 12. In a calm sea, every n an ia pL'ot. 13. 
A good life — keeps on" wrinkles. 

Debt. There is nothing — more t^> be 
dreaded, than debt : when a person, whose 
principles are good, unhappily falls into thia 
situation, adieu to all peace and comfort 
The reflection imbitters every meal, and 
drives from the eyelids refreshing sleep. II 
corrodes and cankers every cheerful idea 
and, like a stern Cerberus, guards each ave- 
nue to the heart, so that pleasure does not 
approach. Happy ! thrwe happy ! are those, 
who are blessed with an independent compe 
fence, and can confine their wants within the 
bounds of that competency be it what it may 
To such alone, the bread c t life is palatable 
and nourishing. Sweet is i'o morsel, that is 
acquired by an honest industry, the produce 
of which is permanent, or that flows from a 
source which will not fail. A subsistence, 
that is precarious, or procured by an uncer- 
tain prospect of payment, carries neithei 
wine nor oil with it. Let me, therefore, again 
repeat, that the person, who is deeply involv- 
ed in debt, experiences, on earth, all the tor- 
tures, the poets describe to be the lot of the 
wretched inhabitants of Tatarus. 

"Varieties. 1. Is not a want of purity, 
the cause of the fickleness of mankind '{ 2. 
A man's churacter is like his shadow \ 
which sometimes follows, and at others, pre 
cedes him ; and which is occasionally longer, 
or shorter, than he is. 3. Admiration — sig- 
nifies the reception and acknowledgment of 
a thing, in thought, and affection. 4. Wo 
should have good roads, if all the sinners 
were set to mend them. 5. The world is a 
hive, that affords both sweets, and poisons, 
with many empty combs. 6. All earthly en- 
joyments are not what they appear ; there- 
fore, we should discriminate ; for some are 
sweet in hopes, but, in fruition, sour. 7. Or* 
der — is the sweetest, most pacific, regular 
and delightful melody : the first motion if 
one, and the end is one: the final end is tfc« 
similitude of the beginning. 

Self alone, in nature — rooted fast, 
Attends us first, and leaves us— last. 



PRINCIPLE? OF ELOCUTION. 



119 



334. Inflections. These are the rising 
and falling slides of the voice, terminating 
on a higher, or lower pitch, than that on 
which it commenced ,• being continuous from 
the radical, or opening fullness of voice, to 
the vanish, or terminating point; and not 
discrete, as the seven notes are. In the in- 
tonations, the voice steps up or down, by 
discrete degrees; but in the infections, it 
glides up or down, by continuous degrees. 
The piano, organ, &c, give discrete degrees ; 
the harp, violin, &c, continuous degrees. 

335. The following sentences may be read, 
with either the falling, or the rising inflec- 
tion ; and the pupil should determine, from 
the sense, &c, the object of the question. 1 . Is 
not good reading and speaking a very rare 
attainment ?* 2. How are we to recover from 
the effects of the fall? 3. Are we natually 
inclined to evil or good? 4. Is it possible for 
man to save himself? 5. Who is entitled to 
the more honor, Columbus, or Washington ? 
6. Which is the more useful member in so- 
ciety, the farmer, or the mechanic ? 7. Ought 
there to be any restrictions to emigration ? 
8. Will any one, who knows his own heart, 
trust himself? 

336. The inflections — may, perhaps, be 
better understood, by contrasting them with 
the monotone ; which is nearly one continued 
sound, without elevation, or depression, and 
may be represented by a straight horizontal 

line, thus ; . In the use of the 

inflections, the voice departs from the mono- 
tone, and its radical, in a continued elevation 
or depression, two, three, five, or eight notes, 
according to the intensity of the affirmation, 
interrogation, command, petition, or nega- 
tion ; which are the five distinctive attributes 
of the vital parts of speech. 

337. Some of man's characteristics. 
His position is naturally upright ; he has free 
use of both hands : hence, he is called the 
only /ww-handed animal : the prominence of 
his chin, and the uniform length of his teeth, 
are peculiar: he is, physically, defenceless, 
having neither weapons of attack nor of de- 
fence: his facial angle is greater than that 
of any other animal ; being from 70° to 90° : 
he has generally the largest brains: he is the 
only animal that sleeps on his back : the only 
one that laughs and weeps; the only one 
that has an articulate language, expressive 
of ideas : and he is the only one endued with 
reason and moral sense, and a capacity for 
religion ,• the only being capable of serving 
God intelligibly. 

MILTON. 

Thy soul— was like a star— and dwelt apart; 
TTnou hadst a voice — whose sound was like the sea. 
Pure — as the naked heavens, majestic. free. 
So didst thou travel — on life's common way, 
In cheerful godliness ; and yet— thy heart 
The lowliest duties— on herself did lay. 



Proverbs. 1. As yc.u sow, you shall reap 
2. Betray no trust, and divulge no secret. 3. Chid* 
not severely, nor punish hastily. 4. Despise none, 
and despair of none. 5. Env y cannot see; ign* 
ranee cannot judge. G. Gossiping and lying, ge- 
nerally go hand in hand. 7. He, who swears, 
distrusts his own word. 8. It is not easy to lov* 
those, whom we do not esteem. 9. Labor bring* 
pleasure; idleness— pain. 10 Many a true woid 
is spoken in jest. li. He who serves— is not free 
12. First come, first served. 13. When gold speaks, 
all tongues are silent. 

Anecdote. Don't know him. Lord Nel- 
son, when a boy, being on a visit to his aunfs. 
went one day a hunting, and wandered so 
far, that he did not return, till long after dark. 
The lady, who was much alarmed by his ab- 
sence, scolded him severely ; and among other 
things said; 1 wonder Fear did not drive you 
home. "Fear," replied the lad, "I don't 
know him J 1 " 

Progress of Society. Whoever has at- 
tentively meditated— on the progress of th& 
human race, cannot fail to discern, that there 
is now a spirit of inquiry amongst men 
which nothing can stop, or even materialJ 
control. Reproach and obloquy, tlweuts ai J 
persecution, will be in vain. They may va\- 
bitter opposition and engender violence, but 
they cannot abate the keenness of research* 
There is a silent march of thought, which w 
power can arrest, and which, it is not difficul 
to foresee, will be marked by important events. 
Mankind were never before in the situation in 
which they now stand. The press has been 
operating upon them for several centuries, 
with an influence scarcely perceptible at its 
commencement, but by daily becoming more 
palpable, and acquiring accelerated force, it 
is rousing the intellect of nations; and hapj)y 
will it be for them, if there be no rash inter- 
ference with the natural progress of know- 
ledge; and if hy a judicious and gradual 
adaptation of their institutions to the inevit- 
able changes of opinion, they are saved from 
those convulsions, which the pride, prejudices 
and obstinacy of a few may occasion to the 
whole. 

Varieties. 1. A good wife — is like a 
snail. Why \ Because she keeps in her own 
house : a good wife is not like a snail. Why 7 
Because she does not carry her all on her 
back: a good wife is like a town cluck. 
Why! Because she keeps good time: & 
good wife is not like a tow a clock. Why ! 
Because she does not speak so loud, that al! 
the town can hear her : a good wife is like an 
echo. Why ] Because she speaks when spo- 
ken to: a good wife isrzo/like an echo. Why 1 
Because she does not tell — all she hears. 
Ye maidens fair — consider well, 
And look both shrewd, and sly, 
Ere rev'rend lips, make good the knot. 
Your teeth — will ne'er untie 



\ 



120 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



33S. IxrizrriOKS. An anecdote may 

serve to present this important branch of onr 
[•abject, in a light 3*ay to be understood by 

a!!. An elderly gi ntloman asked the author, 
if he thought it possible for him to learn to 
ring? He was answered in the affirmative, 
provided he loved music, and was anxious to 
learn. His voice was quite flexible, and va- 
ried, in conversation, and he used all the 
notes of the scale, except two. It was 
thought, upon the spur of the moment, to 
get the old man a little angry, (and after- 
wards beg his pardon,) in order to induce 
him to slide his voice through the octave : the 
effort was successful; and with much feeling, 
he again asked, " Do you say sir, that (1) I — 
can learn losing? an old man like me?'' 
carrying his voice from theirs/ to the eighth 
note, on 1, sing, and me. Just then a friend 
came in, to whom he observed, with incred- 
ulous surprise, mingled with a little con- 
tempt, — "He says Jean learn to sing:" and 
his voice fell from the eighth to the first note, 
on I. 

339. No one can read the following sen- 
tence of ors, even in the common manner, 
without any regard to inflections, and not 
give the word before or, the rising inflection, 
3nd the one after it, the falling inflection ; 
and the reader's ear must be the judge. 
Good, or bad; true, or false ; right, or wrong; 
this, or that ; boy, or girl; man, or woman ; 
male, cr female ; land, or water ; over, or 
under; above, or below ; before, or behind ; 
vrithin, or without ; old, or young; strength, 
or weakness ; fine, or coarse ; one, or two ; 
you, or I; well, or ill; kind, or unkind; 
black, or white; red, or green; rough, or 
smoothe ; hard, or soft ; straight, or crook- 
ed; long, ox short ; round, or square; fat, 
or lean ; swift, ox slow; up, ox down. If 
the reader does not satisfy himself the first 
time, let him practice on these phrases till he 
does. 

340. Reading. The purposes of reading 
are three: the acquisition of knowledge, as- 
sisting the memory in treasuring it "?, and 
the communication of it to others: hence, 
we see the necessity of reading aloud. The 
ancient Greeks never read in public, but reci- 
ted fruiU memory ; of course, if we wish to 
succeed as they did, we must follow in their 
footsteps. How much better it would be, if 
clergymen would memorize those portions 
of the Bible, which they wish to read in 
public! But it may be said, that the task 
would be a severe one : true, but how much 
more effect might be produced on themselves 
and others : and then to have a large part, or 
the whole, of that blessed book, stored up in 
Uit mind, for use here and hereafter .' 

The business that we tore, we raise betinu. 
Asv3 go to— frith delight. 



Proverbs. 1. The remedy is often v/orM 
than the disease. 2. To him that wills, wai * are 
seldom Hunting, 3 A ivcll-balanred miud — will 
resist the pressure of adversity. 4. Be always on 
your guard, against the advices of the wicked, 
when you come in contact with them. 5. Blessed 
is he, that readeth, and undentandeth what Ue 
readeth. 6. Take it for granted, there can be no 
excellence, without labor. 7. The rich man is often 
a stranger to the quiet and content of the poor man. 
8. Beware of gathering scorpions, for this, or the 
future world, t). Tlmre is no genual rule, with- 
out exceptions. 10. Every light — is not the sun. 
11. Never be angry — at what you cannot help. 

Anecdote. Use of Falsehood. A jury, 
which was directed by the Judge, to bring in 
a certain prisoner guilty, on his own confes- 
sion and plea, returned a verdict of "Not 
Guilty ,-" and offered, as a reason, thatthey 
knew the fellow to be so great a liar, they 
did not believe him. 

Talent. One man, perhaps, prov es miser- 
able in the study of the law, who might have 
flourished in that of physic, or divinity ; an- 
other — runs his head against the pulpit, who 
might have been serviceable to his country at 
the plough ; and a third — proves a very dull 
and heavy philosopher, who possibly would 
have made a good mechanic, and have done 
well enough at the useful philosophy of the 
spade or anvil. 

Varieties — in the Uses of Inflections. 1. 
Is genuine repentance founded in love, or 
fear? 2. Can we intentionally offend a per* 
son, whom we truly love ? 3. Have not angei 
ic, as well as satanic beings, once been men, 
and women, on some of the countless earths 
in the universe ? 4. Has any cne actual sin, 
till he violates the known will of God, and 
wilfully sins against his own conscience? 
5. How can the Red men be forgotten, while 
so many of the states, territories, moun- 
tains, rivers and lakes, bear their names ? 6. 
Since decision of character can be acquired 
by discipline, what is the best method to ac- 
quire it'.' The firm resolve — to obtain that 
knoivledge, necessary for a choice, and then 
to do what we know to be right, at any, and 
every peril. 7. What places axe better adap 
ted than theatres, in their present degrada* 
fion, to teach the theory and practice of fash- 
ionable iniquity? 8. What is a more faith- 
ful, ox pleasant friend, than a good book? 

V hen yen mournf-illy rivet— your tear-laden eyes, 

That have seen the last sunset of hope— pass away, 
On tome, bright orb, that seems, through the still sapphire tiM, 

In leant y and splendor, to roll on its way: 
Oh remember, this earth, if beheld from a/ear 

Would seem wrapt in a halo — as clear and is bright 
As the pure silver radiance — enshrining yon iter, 

Where your spirit— is eagerl) soaring to-night 
And at this very moment, perhaps, some poor neart, 

That is aching and Ireakine in thit distant ipbera, 
Gazes down on thii dark world, and longs to depart 

From its own dismal home, tc a t/rig'iter one hat 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



21 



941. The Rising Inflection ('). This 
indicates that the voice glides upward con- 
tinuously, on the more important words. Ex. 
Do you say that V can learn to sing 7 Are 
you going to town to-day ] Is he a good 
man 1 Do you love and practice the truth ? 
Is it your desire to become useful? Do you 
wish to become a good reader, speaker, and 
ginger? Is there not a difference between 
wdrdSy thoughts, and feelings? 

343. Three Modes of Existence. May 
we not appropriately contemplate our bodies, 
and our minds, as consisting of three degrees, 
each having its own legitimate sphere? Is 
not each like a three story house, with three 
successive suits of apartments, which may be 
called — the lewer,the middle and the up' per? 
Are there not three vital degrees of the body, 
' the abdominal, the thoracic, and the enceph- 
alic ? And does not the mind consist of as 
■many degrees, called scientific, rational and 
affec'tuous? or, natural, spiritual and heai/- 
enly ? Is there not in us, as it were, a ladder 
reaching from earth to heat! en? Shall we 
not ascend, and descend upon it, and thus 
take a view of both the worlds in which we 
live 1 But will not the material part soon 
die, and the soul — hyeforei/er? Then does 
not wisdom say, attend to each, according to 
its importance? Are we not wonderfully 
made 1 ? Doth our soul know it right well'? 
And will we praise our Redeemer, by doing 
his will'? 

343. On examining children, in an unper- 
verted state, and all animals, it will invariably 
be found, that they use the lower muscles for 
breathing, and producing sounds. Who is 
not aware that children will halloo, all day 
long, without becoming hoarse, or exhausted ? 
And how often it is the case, that parents wish 
their children to call persons at a distance, be- 
ing aware that they have themselves lost the 
power to speak as formerly. Now all that is 
necessary to be done, by such individuals, is to 
retrace their steps to truth and nature. Re- 
member, that examples, in thi" an especially, 
are better than precewti : rules are to prevent 
faults, not to introduce beauties ; therefore, 
become so familiar with them, that they may 
govern your practice involuntarily. 

Anecdote. Gold Pills. Dr. Goldsmith, 
having been requested by a wife, to visit her 
husband, who was melancholy, called upon 
the patient, and seeing that the cause was 
poverty, told him he would send him some 
pills, which he had no doubt would prove 
efficacious. He immediately went home, put 
ten guineas into a paper, and sent them to 
the sick man: the remedy had the desired 
effect. 

Sugptewn — overturns— what confidence— builds / 
And Ae.who d ares but doubt when there's no ground, 
In neither to himself nor others -soum'. 
16 



Proverbs. 1. Good maa.ners are sure to pro- 
cure respect. 2. Self-comeit makes opinion tbsti- 
nate. 3. Knowledge is the mind's treasure. 4. 
Make the best of a bad largain. 5. Never speak 
to deceive, nor listen to betray. 6. Passion— is ever 
the enemy of truth. 7. Piefer losi, to unjust gain , 
and solid sense, to ivit. 8. Quit not certainty foi 
hope. 9. Rejoice in the truih, and maintain it. 10. 
Seek not after the failings of others. 11. Mights- 
does not make right. 12. Divinity — cannot be de- 
fined. 13. Deride not the unfortunate. 

Philosophy. Philosophy, so far from de- 
serving contempt, is the glory of human na- 
ture. Man approaches, by contemplation, to 
what we conceive of celestial purity and ex- 
cellence. Without the aid of philosophy, the 
mass of mankind, all over the terraqueous 
globe, would have sunk in slavery and super- 
stition, — the natural consequences of gross 
ignorance. Men, at the very bottom of so- 
ciety, have been enabled, by the natural 
talents they possessed, seconded by favorable 
opportunities, to reach the highest improve- 
ments in philosophy; and have thus lifted 
up a torch in the valley, which has exposed 
the V)eakness and deformity of the castle on 
the mountain, from which the oppressors sal- 
lied, in the night of darkness, and spread 
desolation with impunity. Despots: the 
meanest, the basest, the most brutal and ig- 
norant of the human race, who would have 
trampled on the rights and happiness of men 
unresisted, if philosophy had not opened the 
eyes of the sufferers, shown them their own 
power and dignity, and taught them to despise 
those giants of power, as they appeared thro' 
the mists of ignorance, who ruled a vassal 
world with a mace of iron. Liberty — is the 
daughter of philosophy ; and they who de- 
test the offspi-ing, do all that they can to vilify 
and discountenance the motrter. 

Varieties. 1. 7/nat is humility, and 
what are ito effects? 2. Vice — stings us, 
ev«>n in our pleasures ; but virtue — consoles 
us, even in our pains. 3. Cowards — die many 
times ; the valiant — never taste of death but 
once. 4. True friendship is like sound 
health; the value of it is seldom known t ; ll it 
is lost. 5. Young folks tell what they do; old 
ones, what they have done ; and fools, what 
they will do. 6. Men's evil manners live in 
brass; their virtues, we write in sand. 7. 
The natural effects of (4) fidelity, (5) clem- 
ency and (6) kindness, in governors, are 
peace, good-will, order and esteem, on the part 
of the governed. 8. Never make yourself 
too little for the sphere of duty ; but stretch, 
and expand yourself to the compass of its ob- 
jects. 9. (4) Friends, (5) Romans, (6) coun- 
trymen — lend me your ears ,• I come to bury 
Cesar, not to praise him. 10. All truths — 
are but forms of heavenly loves; and a\lfak 
sities — are the forms of infernal loves. 

If you would excel in arts, excel in industry. 



i22 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



344. Inflections. One very encourag- 
ing feature of our interesting subject is, that 
all our principles are drawn from nature, and 
are therefore inherent in every one ; the grand 
design is to develop our minds and bodies in 
accordance with these principles ; which can 
be done, not by silently reading the work, 
or thinking about its contents; but, by pa- 
tient, persevering practice: this, only, can 
enable us to overcome our bad habits, and 
bring our voices, words, and mind into har- 
mony, so that the externals may perfectly 
correspond to the internals. 

345. 1. Is there aught, in eloquence — 
that, can warm the heart 1 She draws her 
fire from natural Imagery. Is there aught 
in pot'try — to enliven the imagination? 
Thre — is the secret of her power. 2. Do 
you love to gaze at the (3) siin, the (4) moon, 
and the (6) planets 1 This affection con- 
tains the science of astronomy, as the seed 
— contains the future tree. WouJd a few 
pence — duty, on tea, for raising a revenue, 
nave ruined the fort unes of any of the Amer- 
icans ? Nd! but the payment of one penny, 
on the principle it was demanded, would 
have made them — slaves. 

346. Invalids — will find the principle, 
and practice, here set forth, of great service 
to them, if they possess the strength, and 
have the resolution, to adopt them ; and they 
will often derive special aid by attempting to 
do something : for the mind, by a determina- 
tion of the will, can be brought to act upon 
the nervous system, in such a way, as to start 
the flow of the blood on its career of health, 
and strength ; and, ere they are aware of it, 
they will be ready to mount up as with the 
wings of an eagle, and leave all care, and 
trouble, and anxiety on the earth. Let them 
try it, and they will see : persevere. 

Anecdote. The Cobbler. A cobbler, at 
Leyd.cn, who used to attend the public dis- 
putations, held at the academy, was once 
asked if he understood Latin. " No," replied 
the mechanic, " but I know who is wrong in 
the argument." " How ?" replied his friend. 
u Why, by seeing who is angry first." 

Lift up thine eyes, afflicted soul ! 

From earth — lift up thine eyes, 
Though dark — the evening shadows roll, 

And daylight beauty — dies ; 
One sun is set — a thousand more 

Their rounds of glory run, 
Where science leads thee— to explore' 

In every star — a sun. 
Thus, when some long-loved comfort ends, 

And nature would despair, 
Faith — to the heaven of heavens ascends, 

And meets ten thousand there ; 
First, faint and small, then, clear and bright, 

They gladden all the gloom, 
And stars, that seem but points of light, 

The rank of sunt assume. 



Proverbs. 1. The body contains the woiking 
tools of ihemind; master your tools, or you will 
l>e a bad workman. 2. Here, and there ; or, tfiis 
world, and the next, is a good subject for refection. 
3. An artist lives everywhere. 4. The body — is 
the image, or type, of the soul; and the sout. is 
visible, only through it. 5. Never refuse a geod 
olTcr, in hopes of a better one ; the first is certain; 
the last is only hope. 6. A promiscuous and su- 
perficial study of books, seldom yields much solid 
information. 7. Tho' ruin ensue, justice must 
not be infringed. 8. Those things become us best, 
that appertain to our situation in life. 9. Pros- 
perity — intoxicates and disturbs the mind: adversi- 
ty — subdues and ameliorates it. 10. The f strongest 
symptoms of wisdom in us, is being sensible of our 
follies. 11. A good man — is not an object of fear. 
12. Friendship — is stronger^ than kindred. 13 
Sin is sin, whether seen or not. 

Duelling. We read, in Swedish history, 
that Adolphus, king of Sweden, determining 
to suppress these false notions of honor, is- 
sued a severe edict against the practice. Two 
gentlemen, however, generals in his service, 
on a quarrel, agreed to solicit the king's per- 
mission, to decide their difference by the laws 
of honor. The king consented, and said, he 
would be present at the combat. He was at- 
tended by a body of guards and the public 
executioner, and before they proceeded to 
the onset, he told these gentlemen, that they 
must fight till one of them died. Then, turn- 
ing to the executioner, he added, do you im- 
mediately strike off the head of the survivor. 
This had the intended effect ; the difference 
between the two officers was adjusted, and 
no more challenges were heard of in the army 
of Gustavus Adolphus. 

Varieties. 1. Oh ! who can describe wo- 
man's love, or woman's constancy. 2. Can 
the immortality of the soul be proved from 
the light of nature ? 3. If the sculptor could 
put life into his works, would heflnot resem- 
ble a good orator ? 4. Can we be too zealous 
in promoting a good cause ? 5. Are mira- 
cles the most convincing evidences of truth? 
6. Is it not very hard to cherish unkind/eeZ- 
ings, and thoughts, without showing them in 
unkind words and actions ? 7. Are theatres 
— beneficial to mankind! 8. Ought any 
thing be received, without due examination ? 
9. Do you wisli to know the persons, against 
whom you have most reason to guard your- 
self] your looking-glass will reveal him to 
you. 10. If a man is in earnest, would you 
therefore call him a fanatic. 

They are sleeping ! Who are sleeping ! 

Captives, in their gloomy cells ; 
Yet sweet dreams are o'er them creepiog, 

With their many-colored spells. 
All they love — again they clasp them ; 

Feel again — their long- lost joys; 
But the haste — with which they grasp them, 

Every fairy form destroys. 



PRINCIPLE* OF ELOCUTION. 



123 



317. The Falling Inflection ( v ) in- 
dicales that the voice glides downwards, 
continuously, on tl*e more important words. 
1. « Where are you going? 2. Of what 
are you thinking? 3. Who sendeth the 
early and the latter rain 1 4. What things 
are most proper for youth to learn 1 Those 
that they are to practice, when they enter 
upon the stage of action. 5. Be always sure 
you are right, then go ahead'' 6. Begin v ; 
be bold, — and venture to be wise : He who 
defers this work, from day to day, Does on a 
river's brink expecting, stay, Till the whole 
stream, that stopt him, shall be gone, — That 
runs, and runs, and ever will run on. 7. I 
do not so much request, as demand your 
attention, 8. Seek the truth for its own 
sake, and out of love for it ; and when found, 
embrace it, let it cut where it will; for it is 
all powerful, and must prevail. 

348. Never begin, or end, two successive 
sentences on the same pitch: neither two 
lines in poetry; nor two members of a sen- 
tence ; nor two words meaning different 
things ; if you do, it will be monotonous. 
The 3d, 4th, or 5th note is the proper pitch 
for commencing to read or speak ; the; force 
must be determined by the occasion, the size 
of the room, the sense, &c. If we are in 
the middle of the pitches, we can rise or fall 
according to circumstances ; but if we begin 
too high, or too low, we shall be liable to 
extremes. Look at those of the audience at 
a medium distance, and you will not greatly 
err in pitch. 

349. Mental Philosophy — treats of 
the faculties of the human mind; their laws 
and actions, with a general reference to their 
use and cultivation. It teaches, that the 
two constituents of mind — are the will and 
the undekstanding ; the former is the re- 
ceptacle of all our affections, good, or evil; 
the latter, of all our thoughts, true or false. 
Phrenology — maybe considered, to a certain 
extent, as the highway to the philosophy of 
mind ; but it is not a sure guide, being found- 
ed on the philosophy of effects, instead of 
that of causes; as is the case with all the 
sciences : hence, it cannot be depended on. 
To judge righteously of the subject of mind, 
we must have the whols man; which in- 
volves phrenology, physiology, and psycholo- 
gy: all of which must be seen in the light 
of TiiUTH. natural, and spiritual. 

Anecdote. Rhymetry. When queen 
Elizabeth visited the town of Falkenstene, 
the inhabitants employed their parish clerk — 
to versify their address : the mayor, on be- 
ing introduced, with great gravity mounted 
a three legged stool, and commenced his 
poetical declamation thus: — "0 mighty 
queen, Welcome to Falkenstene!'' Eliza- 
beth burst out in a loud roar ot laughter; 
and, without giving his worship time to re- 
cover himself ', she replied, "You great fool, 
Get off that s^ooZ." 

Keep company with the wise and good. 



Proverbs. 1. Speech — is the image ot jction, 
2. Superstition — is the spleen of the soul. 3. Sus- 
pect a tale-bearer, and trust him not. 4. Suspicion 
— is the passion of true friendship. 5. Sweet are 
the slumbers of the virtuous. 6. Safe is he, who 
serves a good conscience. 7. Never do a mean 
action. 8. Set not too high a value on your own 
abilities. 9. Simple diet makes healthy children. 
10. Sneer not at that you cannot rival 11. The 
fcest answer to a slander — is silence, li . Vice — io 
infamous in every body. 

Compassion. Compassion — is an emo- 
tion, of which we ought never to be asham- 
ed. Graceful, particularly in youth, is the 
tear of sympathy, and the heart, that melts 
at the tale of wo; we should not permit ease 
and indulgence to contract our affections, 
and wrap us up in a selfish enjoyment. But 
we should accustom ourselves to think of 
the distresses of human life, of the solitary 
cottage, the dying parent, and the weeping 
orphan. Nor ought we ever to sport with 
pain and distress, in any of our amusements, 
ot; treat even the meanest insect with wanton 
cruelty. 

Varieties. 1. What does the tree of life 
signify, and what the knowledge ot good and 
evil, and what the eating from them? 2. 
What heaps of the ruins of a former world, 
are piled up to form the substratum, and 
surface, of the one we inhabit ? 3. Why i9 
the Caucasian, or European race, so migra- 
tory and unsettled in its. habits and propen- 
sities, while the African race seems dis- 
posed to stay at home, contented, and happy t 
4. Where, in the brain, is the determina- 
tion of the mind, when we think intensely t 
Is it not where phrenologists locate causal- 
ity? 5. Why is the eye used to represent 
wisdom? 6. TF^oknoweth, (says Solomon,) 
the spirit of man, that goeth upward, and 
the spirit of the beast, that goeth downward f 
7. Why is a circle — used to represent eter- 
nity ? 

THE DYING CHRISTIAN TO HIS SOUL. 

Vital spark — of heavenly flame ! 
Quit, oh quit this mortal frame; 
Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying^ 
Oh, the yam, the bliss — o? dying! 
Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife, 
And let me languish — into life. 
Hark! they whisper; angels say, 
" Sister spirit, come away. n 
What is this — absorbs me quite ; 
Steals my senses, — shuts my sight, 
Drowns my spirits, — draws my breath ! 
Tell me, my soul, can this — be death? 
The world recedes; it disappears! 
Heaven — opens on my eyes! my ears 

With sounds seraphic ring : — 
Lend, lend your wings ! I mount! Ifiy* 
O grave! where — is thy victory? 

death! where — is thy sting? 

1 hate to see — a shabby book, 
With half the leaves— torn out, 

And used, as if its owner — thought 
Twere made- -to toss about. 



124 



PRINCIPLES OF ^LOCUTION. 



350. Inflections. The reader sees that 
*Aie rutitf inflection is used, when questions 
are asked, that may be answered by yes, or 
no; also, in cases ot doubt and uncertainty: 
and that the falling inriection is used, when 
questions are asked that are not thus an- 
swered ; and in all cases of strong affirma- 
tion. Some authors seem not to have no- 
ticed the distinction between a rising inflec- 
tion of the voice, and a simple suspension 
of it, when there is a continuation of the 
tense. Let us not rely too much on the in- 
flections, to enable us to give variety, but 
on the different -pitches of voice: the former 
gives artificial variety, and the latter, a 
natural one. 

351. 1. Accustom yourself to submit, on 
all occasions, (even in the most minute, as 
well as the most important circumstances in 
life,) to a small, present evil, to obtain a 
greater, distant good. This will give de- 
cision, tone, and energy to the mi?id ; 
which, thus disciplined, will often reap victo- 
ry — from defeat, and honor — from repulse. 
Having acquired this invaluable habit of 
rational preference, and just appreciation, 
start for the prize that endureth forever. 2. 
The man, whose house is on fire, cries — 
Fire! fireM! FIREM!! with the falling 
inflection: but the roguish boy, who would 
raise a false alarm, cries, Fire, fire, fire, 
with the rising inflection. 3. This is an 
(5) open, (4) honorable challenge; why are 
you (6) silent ? Why do you (5) prevari- 
cate? I (6) insist upon this point; I (5) 
urge you to it: (4) press it; nay, I (3) de- 
mand — it. 

352. The end, the cause and the effect, 
are the three distinct things, which follow 
each other in regular and successive order; 
for every thing, in this world, and in the 
other, proceeds according to these degrees: 
hence, intelligence — properly consists in 
knowing and distinguishing them, and see- 
ing them in their order. Illustration: the 
end of man is the love of his will; for what 
one loves, he proposes and i7t,tends: the 
cause with him is the reason ot the under- 
standing; for the end, by means of the rea- 
son, seeks for mediates, or efficient causes: 
and the effect is the operation of the body 
from, and according to, them. When these 
three are exhibited in act, the end is inward- 
ly in the cause, and thro" 1 the cause in the 
effect; wherefore, they co-exist in the effect. 
Hence, the propriety of judging every one — 
by his works; that is, by his fruits: tor the 
end, or the love of the will, and the cause, 
or the reason of his understanding, are to- 
gether in the effects; which three constitute 
the whole man. 

Oh how poor 
Seems the rich gift ofgfiius, when it lies, 
Like the idwfcEUtfftta </»><*, ma., otufi ou^-Sown 
His strength — ujioii the sea, ambition-wrecked — 
A tfrr.g— the thrush might pity, as she sits, 
Brooding in quiet, on ner lowly nut. 



Proverbs. 1. Through tht ear. we niustfint 
access to the heart. 2. Hunger makes every kind 
of food acceptable. 3. Death — is the finishing 
stroke in the picture of life. 4. The remembrance 
of labors performed, and difficulties overcome, is al- 
ways agreeable. 5. The labors of the student are 
sweeter, the farther he proceeds ; because his heart 
is in them. 6. Always yield to the truth. 7. The 
improvement of the mind is of the first importance. 
8. Beware of going into the way of temptations : 
many have been ruined, merely by looking on. to 
see how others do. 9. Tricks and treachery are 
the practice of fools. 10. The proper study of 
mankind — is man. 11. Promote virtuous commu- 
nication. 12. An ape — is ridiculous by nature; 
men — by art and study. 13. Flattery — is a very 
fashionable art. 

Anecdote. Old Habits. The duke de 
Nivernois was acquainted with the countess 
de Rochefort, and never omitted going to 
see her a single evening. As she was a 
widow and he a widower, one of his friends 
observed to him, it would be more conven- 
ient for him to marry that lady. " I have 
often thought so," said he, " but one thing 
prevents me ; in that case, where should 1 
spend my evenings?'' 1 

Promises. If promises — from man to 
man have force, why not from man to wo- 
man ? Their very weakness is the chartev 
of their power, and they should not be in- 
jured because they can't return it. 

Varieties. Educational Questions. 1. 
What are the rights and duties of the fami- 
ly, and of society at large, respecting the 
education of children ? 2. To what sort and 
degree of education can any human individ- 
ual, as such, lay claim, independently of 
fortune, or any other distinction ? 3. How 
far should the education of a child be regu- 
lated, according to his natural capacities, 
and how far should external circumstances 
be permitted to affect it ? 4. What are the 
chief obstacles to a more general education 
of the poor; and what are *he leading errors 
committed in this greatest of all charities, 
so far as it extends at present ? 5. What 
are the chief errors committed in the educa- 
tion of the wealthier classes, and by what 
means can the education of both voor and 
rich be made to produce, in the course of 
time, a more hargionious state of society t 

6. How far, hitherto, lias Christianity been 
allowed to influence education, and by what 
means can the difficulties, arising from dis- 
'iitclions among christians, be obviated in it f 

7. Who will satisfactorily answer these im 
portant questions ? 
" From the birfli 



Of mortal man, the sov'rei°-" Jfaiersaid, 

Th»' -.0*. In itumble, nor in brief delight, 

Not in the fading echoes oirenoicn. 

Power's purple robes, nor pleasure's flowery lap, 

The soul— can find enjoyment; but from thet* 

Turning, disdainful, to ai. eoua. zcrA 

Thro' all th' ascenx o r *L;.g»— enlarge her vitw, 

Till every oound— a« length — shall disappear, 

And infinite perfection — close 'Jie scene.'' 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



12» 



352. Preceding Principles. The sooner 
the pupil begins to rely upon his own re- 
sources and experience, the better; and he 
should not forget, that he must make himself 
an elocutionist. Hence, the importance of 
his seeing, rationally, and feeling, in his in- 
most soul, the truth, or falsehood, of the 
principles here unfolding. Let every exam- 
ple be thoroughly mastered,- and, to prevent 
the growth of bad habits, in reading, speak- 
ing and singing, let him often review, as 
well as pay special attention to the varieties 
of illustration, that are to be found on every 
page. 

353. 1. It is too late — to urge objections — 
against universal education; for the fountains 
—of the great deep — are broken up, and a 
flood of information, (4) theological, (5) scien- 
tific, (4) civil, and (6) literary, is carrying all 
before it; filling up the valleys, and scaling 
the (6) MOUNTAiN-tops: a spirit of inquiry 
has gone forth, and sits brooding — on the 
mind of man. 2. Music — should be cultivat- 
ed, not as a mere sensual gratification ; but, 
as a means of elevating, and improving the 
affections; ennobling, purifying, and exalt- 
ing, the whole man. 3. Beware — of a re- 
morseless thirst for the acquisition of riches; 
rather — than driver up yourself in execrable 
devotion to Mammon, mount the ladder of 
the most dangerous ambition, — even tho' it 
were planted on the precipice, and leaned 
against a cloud. 

354:. Political Philosophy — -'includes 
all theories and general views of government, 
\» ith a description of the forms, and the prin- 
ciples on which they are founded, and the 
modes in which they are administered. This 
study rests on the basis of natural law, or 
justice ; and therefore, presupposes a know- 
ledge of ethics ; it requires enlarged and ele- 
vated views of human nature, and the 
constitution of society ; with the means by 
which virtue may be diffused, justice en- 
forced, and order preserved throughout the 
community: it is alike important to the 
statesman, the legislator, and the private 
citizen. 

Anecdote. Howard's Opinion of Swear- 
ers. As he was standing, one day, near the 
door of a printing-office, he heard some 
dreadful volleys of oaths and curses from a 
public house opposite, and, buttoning his 
pocket up before he went in the street, he said 
to the workmen near him, " I always do this 
whenever I hear men swear, as I think that 
any one, who can take God's name in vain, 
can also steal, or do anything else that is bad." 
Hope, of all passions, most befriends us here : 
Passions of prouder name — befriend us less. 
Joy— has her tears, and transport— has her death: 
Hope, like a cordial, innocent, though strong, 
Man's heart, at once, inspirits- and serenes. 



Proverbs. 1. Perseverance — overcomes all 
difficulties. 2. Instruction, by example, is quick 
and effectual. 3. We are only in the morning 
starlight of the arts and sciences. 4. Knowledge is 
not obtained in a moment. 5. Apollo's bow — was 
not always bent. 6. Reason — is not the test of 
truth : it is only the organ, through which we set 
truth. 7. No one is so well qualified to rule, as 
he, who knows how to obey. 8. Beauty — is like 
the flower of spring: but virtue — is like the stars 
of heaven. 9. Vain persons are fond of fine things 
10. Respect, and contempt, spoil many a one. 11. 
Some — outlive their reputation. 12. "When sorrcte 
is asleep, wake it not. 

Laconics. And what was it, fellow-citi- 
zens, which gave to our La Fayette his spot- 
less/awe? The love of liberty. What — has 
consecrated his memory — in the hearts of 
good men ? The love of liberty. What — 
nerved his youthful arm with strength, and 
inspired him in the morning of his days, with 
sagacity and counsel? The living love of 
liberty. To wtutt — did he sacrifice power, 
and country, and freedom itself? To the 
horror of licentiousness; to the sanctity of 
plighted fait h ; to the love of liberty protected 
by law. Thus, the great principle of your 
revolutionary fathers, of your pilgrim sires, 
the great principle of the age, was the rule of 
his life: The love of liberty — protected by 
law. 

Varieties. 1 . When a lady receives the 
addresses of a gentleman, who is in the ha- 
bit of tippling, how is she to determine, to 
what extent his protestations should be set 
down to himself, and how much passed to the 
credit of arden t spirits ? In other words, how 
much is of love, and how much of alcohol? 
Suppose she test it, by the pledge of total ab* 
stinence ? 

'Tis not the face, — 'tis not the form,-- 
'Tis not the heart — liowever warm; 
It is not these, tho' all combined, 
That wins true love :— it is the mind. 
Canst thou believe ihy prophet,— (or, what is more.) 
That Rower, which made thee. (S) and thy prophet, 
Will (with impunity,) let pass that breach 
Of sacred faith, given to the royal Greek? 
How (3) poor! how (6) rich! how (4) abject! 
How (9) august ! how (4) complicate ! how (2) wonderful is uaa 
How (6) passing, He, who nco.de him such ! and 
Centered in his make — such strange extreme* ! 
What can preserve my life ? or what destroy ? 
An (6) angeVs arm — can't snatch mt tir>m my grave : 
Legions of angels— can't confine <i»: there. 

My mothers voice ! how often— creeps 
Its cadence — o'er my lonely hours, 

Like healing— sent on wings of sleep, 
Or dew — to the unconscious flowers. 

I can't forget her melting prayer, 
Even while my pulses— madly fly; 

And in the still, unbroken air, 
Her gentle tones come — stealing by, 

And years, and sin, and manhond flee, 

And leave me — at my mother's Iruee i 
l2 



!26 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION - . 



355. These Inflections may pass through 
2, 3. 5, or S notes, according to the intensity 
of the feeling. Ex. 1. " Do you say, that [1 J'3] 
can learn to sing ! 2. Do you say that [1 I'd] 
can learn to sing] 3. What J do you say 
that [1 J' 8] can learn to sing ?" Reverse the 
inflection; begin at the top, and go down. 
4. He said [8 "/Ml can learn to sing, not 
you'." Thus, you see that the voice may 
step up or down, by discrete degrees, or glide 
up and down, by continuous degrees. 5. 
" To whom the goblin, full of wrath, replied : 
(1) Art thou that (3) traitor (4) angel? (3) art 
*h >u he who first broke peace in heaven, and 
(6) faith, till then (8) unbroken? (9) Back 
to thy punishment— false fugitive, and to 
thy speed add wings; lest with a whip of 
scorpions, I pursue thy ling'ring ; or with 
one stroke of this dart, strange horror seize 
thee, and pangs unfelt before." In speaking 
this sentence, use all the eight notes. 

35 6. In reading the first example, the 
voice glides from the first to the third note ; 
because there is no feeling r in reading the 
second, the voice glides from the first to the 
fifth note ; because there is some feeling, and 
consequent earnestness ; and in the third 
example, the voice glides from the tonic, to 
the octave ; because there is a great deal of 
feeling : in the fourth example, the voice be- 
gins at the top, or eighth note, and glides 
down to the first; because there is a conse- 
quent change of thought and action. In the 
fifth example, the voice commences at 1, in 
a harsh tone, and goes on gradually ascend- 
ing to angel ,• then it recedes, and then goes 
on rising still higher on faith, and highest on 
unbroken; when it begins to descend, in an 
unyielding and gradual way, to the close, in 
a manner that no words can describe. 

357. Do not the bees, (says Quintillian) 
extract honey from very different flowers and 
juices! Is it any wonder that Eloquence, 
(which is one of the greatest gifts heaven has 
given to man,) requires many arts to perfect 
it I and tho' they do not appear in an ora- 
tion, nor seem to be of any use^ they never- 
theless afford an inward supply of strength, 
iiid are silently felt in the mind: without 
all these a man may be eloquent, but I wish 
to form an orator ; and none can be said to 
have all the requisites, while the smallest 
thing is wanting. 

Anecdote. Good Works. The Russian 
embassador at Paris, made the Abbe L'Epee 
a. visit, and offered him a large sum of mo- 
ney through the munificence of the empress. 
The Abbe declined, saying, " I receive gold 
of no one ; but if the empress will send me 
» deaf and dumb person to educate, I shall 
consider it a more flattering mark of d-'s- 
Unction.** 



Proverbs. 1. An evil hea.t- -can .make my 
doctrine false, in its own view. 2. Bad looks 
are fountains of twee. 3. Comply cheerfully, when 
necessity enjoins it. 4. Despair— blunts the edge 
of industry. 5. 2feu&4e-dea.ilig— is the index of • 
base spirit. 6. Every vice wars against nature. 7. 
Friendship — is often stronger than kindred 8. 
Good intentions — will not justify evil actions. 9. 
In order to learn, we must pay undivided atten- 
tion. 10. Mental gifts — often hide bodily infirmi- 
ties. 11. Lawing — is very costly. 12. The world 
;s his, who enjoys it. 13. Poverty — is o.'ten an 
evil counsellor. 

Despotism. All despotism, whether 
usurped or Ivereditary, is our abhorrence. 
We regard it as the most grievous wrong 
and insult to the human race. But, towards 
the hereditary despot — we have more of com- 
passion than indignation. Nursed and bro't 
up in delusion, worshiped from his cradle, 
never spoken to in the tone of fearless truth, 
taught to look on the great mass of his fellow- 
beings as an inferior race, and to regard des- 
potism as a law of nature, and a necessary 
element of social life; such a prince, whose 
education and condition almost deny him the 
possibility of acquiring healthy moral feeling 
and manly virtue, must not be judged severe- 
ly. Still, in absolving the despot — from much 
of the guilt, which seems at first, to attach to 
his unlawful and abused potver, we do not 
the less account despotism a wrong and a 
curse. The time for its fall, we trust, is com- 
ing. It cannot fall too soon. It has long 
enough wrung from the laborer his hard 
earnings; long enough squandered a na- 
tion's wealth on its parasites and minions ; 
long enough warred against the freedom of 
the mind, and arrested the progress of truth. 
It has filled dungeons enough — with the brave 
and good, and shed enough of the blood of pa- 
triots. Let its end come. It cannctcome/yo 
soon. 

Varieties. 1. What is education, and what 
are the best means for obtaining it"? 2. Why- 
are diamonds valuable? because of their 
scarcity? 3. Why are professional men in- 
different poets ? is it because, as the bounda- 
ries of science enlarge, the empire of ima- 
gination is diminished? 4. In what docs 
true Itonor consist] 5. Tamerlane boasted 
that he governed men by four great arts ; 
viz: bribery, amusement, diversion, and sus- 
pense: are there no Tamalanes note, think 
you] 6. Is there any alliance between ge- 
nius and povert y ? 7. If we leave the path 
of duty, shall we not be liable to run into the 
path of danger? S. Are there not some. 
who would make void the word of God, by 
their own traditions ? 9. Is it not a most 
important part of a teacher's duty, to imbm» 
the minds of his pupils, with the love of all 
goodness and truth ? 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



121 



358. The Inflections have great influence 
in expressing, or perverting the sense, ac- 
cording as they are correctly or mcorrectly 
made. 1. In the retirement of a college 
— I am unable to suppress evil thoughts ; how 
difficult then, to do it, amidst the world's 
temptations! 2. The man who is in the 
daily use of ardent (6) spirits, (4) if he 
should not become a (3) drunkard, (6) is 
in danger of losing his (5) health, and (6) 
character. The rising inflection on drunkard, 
would imply that he must become one, to 
preserve his health and character. 

359. Apply the principles to the follow- 
ing, according to the feelings and thoughts, 
and their objects. 1. But (5) mercy — is (6) 
above — this sceptred sway ; (4) it is enthron- 
ed — in the (5) hearts of kings ; it is an (6) 
attribute — (1) of God himself. 

Love, hope, — and joy, fair Pleasure's smiling train; 
Hate, fear, and grief, the family of Pain ; 
These, mixed with art, and to due bounds confined, 
Make — and maintain —the balance of the mind. 

He knew — 
How to make madness— beautiful, and cast, 
(O'er erring deeds, and thoughts,) a heavenly hue 
Of words, like sunbeams, dazzling (as they passed,} 
The eyes, which o'er them shed tears, feelingly, and fast. 
Thy words—had such a melting flow, 

And spoke of truth — so sweetly well, 
They dropped — (like heaven's serenest snow,) 

And all was (6) brightness, — where they fell. 

360. Inducing Disease. There is no 
doubt, that the seed of a large number of dis- 
eases are sown in childhood and youth ; and 
especially in our progress in obtaining what 
is called, an education. The bad habits of 
position in and out of school, and our un- 
healthy mode of living, contribute very es- 
sentially to the promotion of various diseases ; 
particularly, dyspepsia, liver and lung com- 
plaints, and headaches. Hence, we cannot 
be too watchful against sitting in a crooked 
position, nor too prudent in eating, drink- 
ing, and sleeping, as well as in our clothing, 
and our lodging apartments. Let us put 
forth every effort in the performance of our 
duties, be they physical, intellectual, or moral. 

Anecdote. A Swiss Retort. A French 
officer, quarrelling with a Swiss, reproached 
nim with his country's vice of fighting on 
either side for money ; " while we French- 
men" said he, " fight for honor." " Yes, sir," 
replied the Swiss, " every one fights for that 
he most wants." 

Called a blessing to inherit, 
Bless, and richer blessings merit: 
Give, and more shall yet be given : 
Line, and serve, and look for Heaven. 
Would being end— with our expiring breath. 
How soon misfortune would be puffed away ! 
A trifling shock— shrives us to the dust ; 
But the existence— of the immortal soul, 
futurity's dark road— perplexes still. • 



Proverbs. 1. The best way to see Divine 
light— is to put out our own. 2. The proud— 
shall be abased; but the humble — shall be exalted. 
3. As long as you anil truth agree, you will do 
well. 4. No one is born for himself alone, but 
for the world. 5. Rely not too much on the 
torches of others ; light one of your own. 6. 
Divest yourself of envy, and lay aside all unkind 
feelings. 7. If youth knew what age would 
crave, it would both crave and save. 8. A 
speaker, without energy, is like a lifeless statue. 
9. Deep— and intense feeling— lie at the root of 
eloquence. 10. Condemn no one, without a can- 
did hearing. 11. Think more, and speak less. 
12. Follow the dictates of reason. 

Half-Murder. That father, says the 
learned Baudier, who takes care to feed and 
clothe his son, but neglects to give him such 
accomplishments as befit his capacity and 
rank in life, is more than half his murderer; 
since he destroys the better part, and but con 
tinues the other to endure a life of shame. 
Of all the men we meet with, nine out of ten 
are what they are, good or evil, useful ox no), 
by their education ; it is that, which makes 
the great difference in mankind : the little, or 
almost insensible, impressions on our tender 
infancy, have very important and lasting 
consequences. 

"Varieties. 1. Send your son into the 
world with good principles, good habits, and 
a good education, and he will work his way. 
2. How absurd to be passionate yourself, and 
expect others to be placid. 3. Why is swear* 
ing — like a ragged coat? because it is a 
very bad habit. 4. Can there be any virtue, 
without true piety ? 5. Why is rebellion — 
like rfrara-drinking 1 because it is inimical 
to the constitution. 6. Why do white sheep 
— furnish more wool than black ones 1 be- 
cause there are more of them. 7. Why is om 
who is led astray, like one who is governed 
by a girl ? Do you give it up 1 because he 
?'s misled, (Miss-led.) 8. Ought there not to 
be duties on imported goods, to encourage 
domestic manufactures ? 9. Are not physics 
and metaphysics inseparably joined 1 if so, 
what is the connecting link ? 10. Is it right, 
under any circumstance, to marry for money? 
11. Is it right to imprison for debt ? 
I can find comfort — in the words and looks 

Of simple hearts and gentle souls; and I 
Can find companionship — in ancient books, 

When, lonely, on the grassy hills I lie, 

Under the shadow — of the tranquil sky ; 
I can find music— \n the rushing brooks, 

Or in the songs, which dwell among the trees, 

And come in snatches — on the summer breeze. 
I can find treasure — in the leafy shotoers, 

Which, in the merry autumn- time, will fall ; 
And T can find strong love — in buds and flowers. 
And beauty— in the moonlight's silent hours. 

There's nothing, nature gives, can fail to pUas* 
F^r there's a common joy- pervading all 



128 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



•ttfl. A speaker — may calculate, before- 
l.aad, (so Bur as human agency is concerned, 
and other things being equal) the effect of a 
certain effort, by adapting the manner to the 
matter, as well as af^-mer can in raising a 
crop, by using the proper means. As a 
stringed instrument, when touched at given 
fioints, infallibly produces certain tunes ; so, 
the human mind, when touched by certain 
modulations, and corresponding sentiments, 
as infallibly receives certain impressions. 
But a speaker, singer, or writer, who thinks 
much of himself, is in danger of being for- 
gotten by others. If he takes no sincere and 
hearfelt delight in what he is doing, but as it 
js admired and applauded by his audience, 
disappointment will be his portion,- for he 
cannot long succeed. He who would be 
great in the eyes of others, must first learn to 
be made nothing in his own. 

362. Exs. of the ' and \ 1. Did you say 
yes, or no ? Shall we crown the author of 
the public calamities ] or shall we destroy 
himl 2. Beware of ignorance and sloth, 
and be guided by ivisdom. 3. (2) Are they 
Hebrews? Are they all Hebrews] (4) 
Are they Hebrews from Palestine ? 4. 
What does the word person mean ] That 
which consists in one's own self, and not 
any part or quality in another. 5. Is not 
water the best and safest of all kinds of 
drink? 6. Nature — and (4) Reasohj — 
answer — yes. 7. The mind — is its own 
f >lace ; and, in itself, can make a heaven — 
A' hell; or hell of heaven. 

Gcod name — in man, or woman, 
Is the immediate jetcel of their souls: 
Who steals my purse, steals trash, 'tis something, nothing: 
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to tliousands; 
But he, who niches from me my good name, 
Robs me of tliat which not enriches him, 
And makes me— poor indeed. 
Where is the true man's father-land ? 
Is it— wher3 he, by chance, is born ? 
Doth not the yearning spirit — scorn — 
In such scant borders to be spann'd ? 
O, yes ! his father- land must be — 
As the blue heaven — wide — and free. 
Anecdote. A Quaker, who had a great 
b -rror of soldiers, on seeing one jump into 
ti « Thames, and save a person who was 
a-, owning, said on the occasion, " I shall al- 
wvs be a Quaker; but soldiers are good 
cr aturesP 

What is it, Man, prevents thy God, 
From making thee his blest abode ? 
He says— he loves thee, wills thee heaven, 
And for thy good — has blessings given. 
I'll tell thee— 'Tis thy love of self, 
Thy love of rule — thy love of pelf, 
Bind thee to earth— and all her toys, 
And robs thee — of substantial joys. 
Heaven's gates — are not so highly arched — 
As prince's palaces ; they who enter there, 
Must go — upon their knees. 



Proverbs. 1. New limes, demand new meo*+ 
ures, and new men. 2. Pride — either finds a de- 
sert, or makes one. 3. Want of feeling, is one of 
the worst faults of elocution. 4. He, thateaJcAes at 
more than belongs to him, deserves to lose what 
he has. 5. Books— associate us with the think- 
ing, and give us the material of thought. 6. 
Either be silent, or speak what is better than «i- 
lence. 7. He, who resolves to amend, has God, 
and all good beings, on his side. 8. If you wouM 
have a thing kept secret, never tell it ; and if you 
would not have any thing told of you, nevei it 
it. 9. The shortest answer — is doing a thir>g. 
10. Friends— got without desert, will be lost with- 
out a cause. 11. Never speak what is not true 
12. If it is not decent, never do it. 

Selfishness. The selfish — look upon 
themselves, as if they were all the world, 
and no man beside concerned therein ; that 
the good state of things is to be measured by 
their condition ; that all is well, if they do 
prosper and thrive ; all is ill, if they be disap- 
pointed in their desires and projects. The 
good of no man, not of their brethren, not of 
t heir /HmrZs, not of their country, doth come 
under their consideration. 

Varieties. 1 . If we feel well, shall we not 
try to make others feel so ] 2. May not the 
constitution be injured by over-nursing, and 
the mind unnerved, by being prevented from 
relying upon its own resources? 3. Is it 
expedient to wear mourning apparel] 4. 
Does curiosity, or love of truthand goodness, 
induce you to study history? 5. Has the 
study of the classics, an immoral tendency ? 
6. Who would be an old maid, or an old 
bachelor? 7. What is Botany ? The science 
of Plants. 8. Can friendship — exist with- 
out sympathy? 9. Is a free or despotic 
government, more conducive to human hap- 
piness? 10. Ought not human nature — to 
be a chief study of mankind ] 11. Are gold 
and silver mines, on the whole, beneficial to 
a nation] 12. Is it right, to oblige a Jury to 
give a unanimous verdict 1 

THE BIBLE— WORTHY OF ALL ACCEPTATION 

This little book — I'd rather own, 
/ Than all the gold and gems, 
! That e'er in monarch's coffers shone, 
/ Than all their diadems. 

Nay, were the seas— one chrysolite, 

The earth— a. golden ball, 
And diamonds all the stars of night, 
This book— were worth them all. 
Here, He who died on Calvary's tree, 

Hath made that promise — blest ; 
" Ye heavy-laden, come to me, 

And I will give you rest. 
A bruised reed — I will not break, 

A contrite heart — despise ; 
My burden's light, and all, who take 
My yoke, shall win the skies !" 
The humble man, when he receives a wrttg, 
Refers revenge — to whom it doth belong. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION 



129 



303. Inflections. Although there are 
given rules, for making these inflections, or 
slides of the voice, either up or down, yet 
it should be bome in mind, that every sen- 
tence, which has been read with the upward 
slide, can, under other circumstances, be read 
correctly with the downward slide : the sense 
governs everything here, as in emphasis. 
Ex. 1. Are you going to tou/n ? 2. Are you 
going to tow y n ? 3. Why 1 did you speak to 
her! 4. Why y did you spea'k to her 7 5. Do 
you i£dr me 7 6. Do you Iieiir me 7 In the 
first example, we have a simple, direct ques- 
tion ; in the second, the same form of words, 
but so 6poken, as if one said, I wish to know, 
positively, whether you go to townj so of the 
rest. Thus you see, the sense, the object, the 
intention determines the manner. 

36 1. 1. Some poets may be compared to 
others,- but Milton and Shakspeare are in- 
comparable. 2. He, who considers himself 
wise, while his wisdom does not teach him to 
acknowledge the Lord, is in the profoundest 
ignorance. 3. We see the effects of many 
things, the causes of but few ; experience, 
therefore, is a surer guide than imagination, 
and inquiry than conjecture. 4. It is the in- 
dispensable duty, and the inalienable right, 
of every rational being, to prove all things, 
and holdfast that which is good. 
Get but the tnii/i — once uttered, and 'tis like 
A star, new-born, that drops into its place, 
And which, once circling its placid round, 
Not all the tumult of the earth — can shake. 
3G5. Tlie nearer your delivery agrees with 
Ihe freedom and ease of common discourse, 
(if you keep up the dignity and life of your 
subject, and preserve propriety of expression,) 
the more Just, natural and agreeable it will 
be. Study nature; avoid affectation, and 
never use art, if you have not the art to con- 
ceal it : for, whatever does not appear natural, 
is neither agreeable nor persuasive. 

Anecdote. A brutal leachei , whipped a 
a little boy, for pressing the hand of a little 
girl, who sat next to him at school. After 
which, he asked the child, " Why he squeezed 
the girl's hand 7" " Because," said the little 
fellow. " it looked so pretty, I could not help 
it." What punishment did the teacher de- 
serve 7 

THE EPITAPH. 

Here rests his head — upon the lap of earth, 

A youth — to fortune, and Xofame — unknown : 
Fair Science — frown'd not on his humble birth, 

And Melancholy — markxl him for her own 
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere; 

Heaven — did a recompense — as largely send 
He gave to mis'ry all he had— a tear; [friend. 

He gain'd from heav'n ('twas all he wish'd)— a 
Ko fariher seek his merits to disclose, 

Or draw h\s frailties from their dread abode. 
There, they, alike, in trembling hope repose) 

Tlie bosom of his Fathtr. and his God. 
BRONSON. 9 



I Proveros. _. ». is nuui: sfWK 5 refund the 
i innocent, man tne guMy. 2. ~.ei _.€ press and 
i speech, he free; no good govcrnmen;. .ins anything 
j to fear irom papa snot, or airy woras. 3. Three 
| bungs are necessarv to maice an ao.e man, — na- 
ture, study, and practice. 4. Cultivate a spirit of 
love toward all. 5. Always distinguish between 
apparent truths, and real truths; between rfftes 
and causes. 6. God — is best known and honoiti;, 
when his word and works are best understood an l 
appreciated. 7. Industry — is essential to usefui 
ness, and happi?iess. 8. Every one ought to dw 
something. 9. Nothing is stationary ; and the hu- 
man family — the least of all. 10. Mankind ar»« 
tending to a better condition, or to actual extinction 

11. Trade — knows neither friends nor kindred 

12. Physicians — rarely take medicine. 
Wisdom of our Ancestors. If the 

" wisdom of our ancestors" — had not taught 
them to recognize newly discovered truths, 
and to discard those errors, to which igyior- 
ance had given birth, we should not have 
been indebted to them for tlie improvements, 
which, however well they may have served 
their purpose for a time, are destined to be 
superseded by still more important discover- 
ies. In the year 1615, a Florentine had the 
presumption and audacity to assert, contrary 
to the prevailing opinions of the learned, 
"tlie great, the good, and the wise among 
men," and contrary to the conclusions of all 
preceding ages, " that the earth revolved round 
the sun ,-" and, although he was- threatened 
with death for his heresy, Galileo was right. 
Varieties. 1. What is the image of God. 
and what the likeness of God, into which man 
was created 7 2. What grace is more valu- 
able, than humility? 3.. Is hereditary de- 
pravity an actual sin, or a calamity? 4. Was 
not the genius of Ar-chim-i-des the parent of 
the mechanical arts? 5. Did not the first 
single pair of mankind — possess the type of 
all the distinct races of men, — their innate 
tendency and genius, which has, or will, re- 
appear in their offspring ? 6. What is 'tlie 
meaning of the command to Moses," See that 
thou make all things after the pattern, which 
/have shown thee in the Mount ?" 7. If we 
are hardened' under affliction, does it not in- 
dicate a very bad state of mind 7 8. Are 
miracles — violations of the laws of Nature? 
9. Does not the state and charade)- of parents 
— affect "their cffs2Jving? 10. What is the 
conclusion of the whole matter 7 Fear Go'l, 
and keep his commandments. 

When Summer's heats — the verdure sear, 
Through yonder shady grove I tread, 

Or throw me listless — down to hear 
The winds — make music over head ; 

A thousand flowers — are blooming rouno. 
The " wilding oee" goes droning by, 

And springs gush out— with lulling sound, 
And painted icarblers — linger nigh ; 

Yet one thing — wants the dreamer there — 

A kindred soul— the scene to share. 



130 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



363. Waves, ok Circumflexes of thk 
Voice: of these, there are two,- which are 
called the rising circumflex [v] and the fall- 
ing circumflex [*]: they are formed by the v 
ami the ' , and are generally connected with 
the accented vowels of the emphatic words. 
Doubt, pity, contrast, grief, supposition, 
comparison, irony, implication, sneering, 
railcry, scorn, reproach, and contempt, are 
expressed by them. Ee sure and get the right 
feeling and thought, and you will find no 
difficulty in expressing them properly, if you 
have mastered the voice. 

366. Exs. of the rising v. 1. I may go 
to town to-morrow, though I cannot go to- 
day. 2. The sun sets in the west, not in 
the east. 3. He lives in London, not in 
New York. 4. The desire of praise — pro- 
duces excellent effects, in men of sense. 5. 
He is more a knave, than a fool. 6. I see 
thou hast learn'd to rlil, if thou hast learned 
nothing &lse. 7. Better to do well late, than 
never. 8. A pretty fellow you are, to be 
sure/ 9. In some countries — poverty — is 
considered a misfortune ,- in others — a crime. 
1 0. The young — are slaves to novelty ; the 
old — to custom. 

367. Promiscuous Examples. 1. A just 
appreciation of our duties — is worth any sa- 
crifice, that its attainments may cost. 2. 
Dearly do we sometimes pay for our wis- 
dom, but never too dearly. 3. Is not the life 
of animals dissipated at death? 4. The an- 
cients — had the art of singing, before that of 
writing ,- and their laws and histories were 
sung, before they were written. 5. This heav- 
enly Benefactor claims — not the homage of 
our lips, but of our hearts; and who can 
doubt that he is entitled to the homage of our 
hearts ? 6. If we have no regard to our own 
character, we ought to have some regard to 
the character of others. 7. Tell your invad- 
ers this; and tell them, too, we seek no 
change; and least of all — such change as 
ttvey would bring us. 

368. We must avoid a mechanical variety, 
and adopt a natural one : this may be seen in 
zhildren, when relating anything that comes 
from themselves; then, their intonations, 
melody, and variety, are perfectly natural, 
and true to the object in view : let us go and 
sit at their feet and learn., and not be offend- 
ed. Let us turn our eye and ear, to truth 
and nature ; for they will guide their vota- 
ries right. Give us the soul of elocution and 
music, and that will aid in forming the body. 

CONFIDENCE, NOT TO EE PLACED IN MAN. 

O momentary grace of mortal men, 
Which we more hunt for — than the grace of God! 
Who builds his hope— in air of your fair looks. 
Lives like a drunken sailor — on a mast f 
Ready, with every nod, to tumble down — 
to the fata 1 bowels —of the deep. 



Maxims. l.Tlie love of sensual pleasure, (I 
temporary madness. 2. Sacrifice — ean be made 
on bail principles; obedience — only on good ones. 
•'!. (Jreal cry and little wool; applies lo those who 
promise muck, but practice little. 4. Do what you 
think is right, whatever others may think. 5 
I. earn to disregard alike, ihe praise and the cen~ 
sure of bad men. C. Covet that popularity thai 
follows; not that which must be run after. 7. 
What sculpture is— to a block of marble, education 
is to the human mind. 8. He, who is unwiUing 
to amend, has the devil on his side. 9. Extensive, 
various reading, without rtfeclion, tends to the in- 
jury of the mind. 10. Proverbs bear age, and arc 
full of various instruction. 

Anecdote. John Randolph's Mother. The 
late John Randolph, some years before his 
death, wrote to a friend as follows: "I used 
to be called a Frenchman, because I took the 
French side in politics ; and though that was 
unjust, yet the truth is, I should have been 
a French atheist, if it had not been for one re- 
collection, and that was — the memory of the 
time, when my departed mother — used to 
take my little hands in hers, and cause me, 
on my knees, to say, • Our Father who art in 
heaven.'' " 

School Teachers. It is important, that 
teachers of youth, should not only be respected, 
but respectable persons. They, who are in- 
trusted with the responsible office of develop- 
ing the mind, and directing the affections of 
the young, ought to be worthy of sharing in 
all the social enjoyments of the most refined 
society ,- and they ought never to be excluded 
from such participation. Yet it is scandal- 
ously true, in some parts of our country, that 
teachers, however worthy, are excluded from 
the houses of the very parents, who send 
their children to their schools. This is not 
only contrary to all republican principles, 
but is in direct opposition to the dictates of 
common sense. Wherever such a state of 
things exists, the people are but half civilized, 
whatever pretensions wealth, and other cir- 
cumstances afford them. 

Varieties. 1. Enier on the performance 
of your duties, with willing hearts, and 
never seek to avoid them. 2. The heart — h 
ivoman's world; it is there — her ambition 
strives for the mastery. 3. The object of ra> 
reution is — to soften and refine,xio\. to render 
ferocious ,- as is the case with amusement > 
that brutalize. 4. Is capital punishment 
right ? 5. Who has done the more injury- 
Mahomet, or Constantine ? 6. Is tobacco — 
necessary ? 7. Why is the figure of a viper 
— used to express ingratitude ? 8. Is it right 
to go to war — on any occasion 1 9. What is 
the usual quantity of blood — in a common 
sized body? About twenty-five or thirtu 
pounds. 10. Is it not singular that Pope* 
translations should be very profuse, and his 
original compositions very concise? 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



131 



369. Exs. of the falling *. 1. Who 
tares for you ? 2. He is your friend, is he? 
3. You tell me so, do you? 4. If I were 
to do co, what would you say? 5. It is 
not prudence, when I trust ray secrets to a 
man who cannot keep his own. 6. You 
are a very wise man, strong, brave, peaceable. 
7. If you had told me so, perhaps, I should 
have believed you. 8. Sir, you are a fool. 
and I fear you will remain so. 

370. Manner. What we mean, does 
not so much depend on what we say, as how 
we say it; not so much on our words, as on 
our manner of speaking them : accordingly, 
in elocution, great attention must necessarily 
be given to this, as expressive of what our 
words do not always indicate: thus, na- 
ture — fixes the outward expression of every 
intention and sentiment. Art only adds 
ease and gracefulness to the promptings of 
nature: as nature has ordained, that man 
shall walk on his feet, and not on his hands, 
art — teaches him to walk gracefully. 

371. Combination of the Waves. 1. 
But you forsooth, are very wise men, deeply 
learned in the truth ; we, weak, contempti- 
ble, mean persons; but you, strong, gallant. 
2. Mere hirelings, and time-servers — are al- 
ways opposed to (5) improvements, and (6) 
originality : so are tyrants — to liberty, and 

'yublicanism. 3. Wisdom alone is truly 
fair ; vice, only appears so. 4. How like 
a fawning pablican he looks! 5. How 
green you are, and fresh in this old world ! 
6. What ! can so young a thorn begin to 
prick ? 7. Money — is your suk ? What 
should I sly to you? Should I not say, 
Hath a dog money ? Is it possible — a cur 
can lend three thousand ducats? 7. They 
tell us to be moderate; but they, they — 
are to revel in profusion ! 

Miscellaneous. 1. Can one phenome- 
non of mind be presented, without being 
connected with another? if so, — how ? 2. 
Reputation — often effects that, which did not 
belong to one*s character. Make a child — 
believe that he is considered aimable, by his 
friends, and he will generally become so. 3. 
Affection — is the continuous principle of love, 
— which is spiritual heat. ; and hence the 
very vital principle of man. 4. Must not 
the first possible idea — of any individual, 
have been the product of the relation — be- 
tween two states of the mind, in reference to 
external objects ? 

Anecdote. Danger of Bad Campany. 
St. Austin compares the danger of bad com- 
pany — to a nail driven into a post ; which, 
after the first, and second stroke, may be 
drawn out with little difficulty; but being 
mce driven up to the head, the pincers can 
lake no hold to draw it out ; which can be 
tone only by the destruction of the wood. 



Maxims. 1. A woun.ird reputation is seldom 
cured. 2. Conciliatory manners ahvays com- 
mand esteem. 3. Never deride any one's infirmi- 
ties. 4. Detraction — is a sin against justice. 5. 
Modesty — has more charms than beauty. 6. No 
fear should deter us from doing good. 7. Pin not 
your faith to another one's sleeve. 8. Reckless 
youth — makes rueful age. 9. The example of the 
good is visible philosophy. 10. Truth — never frara 
rigid examination. 11. Sickness is felt, but not 
health. 

Reason. As the field of true science en- 
larges, as thought becomes more free, an in- 
quiry upon all subjects becomes more bold 
and searching ; a voice louder and still loud- 
er comes up from the honest and thinking 
men in Christendom, calling for rationality 
in religion, as well as in every thing else ; 
calling for such principles of biblical inter- 
pretation, as shall show the scriptures to 
be indeed, and in truth, the Wonrj of Goo. 
fivery ray of truth, which has been sent 
from heaven — to enlighten and bless man- 
kind, has gained admittance into the world 
by patient struggling and persevering con- 
test. 

Varieties. 1. The words of Seneca, the 
virtuous Pagan, put to the blush — many a 
pagan christian. 2. When Socrates was in- 
formed, that the judges had sentenced him 
to death, he replied, — " And hath not Nature 
passed the same sentence on them'*''' 4. 
There is more eloquence, in the tone of voice, 
in the looks, and in the gestures of a speak- 
er, than in the choice of his words. 

Dear Patience — too, is born of woe, 
Patience, that opens the gate 

Wherethrough the soul of man must go 
Up to each nobler state. 

High natures — must be z/iuna*er-scar:cd, 

With many a searing wrong. 
Law, that shocks equity, is reason's murder. 
I would not waste my spring of youth, 
In idle dalliance; I would plant rich seeds. 
To blossom in my manhood, and bear fruit, 
When I am old. 
Full many a gem — of purest ray serene, 

The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear, 
Full many afiow'r is born — to blush unseen, 

And waste its sweetness on the desert air. 
Beautiful cloud ! with folds so soft and fair 

Swimming — in the pure — quiet air ! 
Thy fleeces, bathed in sunlight, while below, 

Thy shadow — o'er the vale moves slow : 
Where, 'midst their labor, pause the reaper irait\ 

As cool it comes — along the grain. 
Beautiful cloud! I would I were with thee 

In thy calm way — o'er land and sea: 
To rest — on thy unrolling skirts, and look 

On Earth — as on an open book; 
On streams, that tie her realms, with silver bamlr\ 

And the long ways, that seam her lands; 
And hear her humming cities, and the sound 

Of the great ocean — breaking round 



132 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



.its. Remember, that Nature abhors mo- 
notony, or sameness of sound, as much as 
she does a vacuum. Hence, give variety in 
i mphmt^ir^flectUms, and waves, if then- often 

occur. 1. (3) Ht.ppy, (5) hippy, (6) Aijp- 
/>// pair! none but tlie (2) brave/ (6) 
;?>/.'?< but the (5) brave,- none (8) hut the 
breve deserve the fHir/ 2. (6) What apiece 
of work — is man ! how noble in (5) reg- 
ion/ how infinite in (6) faculties! in (4) 
/ivrm, and (f>) moving, how express and 
(G) admirable ! inaction, how like an an- 
"•/// in apprehension, (4) how like a GW/ 
3. My jtrnojrBST — approves this measure, 
and my whole heart — is in it: all that I 
have ,- (4) all that I am ,■ and all tl>at I 
hof>:, in this life, I am now ready here to 
stake upon it ; and I leave off as I began ; 
th't (4) sink or swirh ; (5) live or die ,- 
survive or (6) perish, — / am for the decla- 
ration-. It is my living sentiment, and (2) 
by the blessing of God, it shall be my dying 
sentiment : (5) Independence — (6) now 
and Independence (9) forever ! 

373. Effect. What is the use of reading, 
speaking, and singing, if the proper effect is 
not produced? If the singing in our church 
choirs, and the reading and speaking in the 
desk and pulpit, were what they ought to 
he, and what they may be, the house of God 
would be more thronged than theatres ever 
have been. Oh ! when will the best of truths 
be delivered in the best of manners? May 
l he stars of elocution and music, be more 
numerous than the stars of heaven ! 
Because I cannot fatter, and speak fair, 
Smile in man's face, smooth, deceive and coy, 
Deck with French u-ords, and apish courtesy, 
T must be held — a rancorous enemy. 
Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm, 
But thus his simple truth — must be abused, 
By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks ! 
Tho' plunged in ills, and exercised in care, 
YtT, never let the noble mind despair: 
When prest by dancers, and beset by foes, 
Heaven its timely succour doth interpose, [grief.) 
And, (when our virtue sinks, o'erwhelmed with 
By unforeseen expedients — brings relief. 
Jf 'here's a sin — more deeply black than others, 
Distinguished from the list of common crimes, 
And legion — in itself, and doubly dear 
To the dark prince of lull — it is hypocrisy. 

Ye gentle /rales, beneath my body blow, 
And softly lay me — on the waves below. 
Wisdom — took up her harp, and stood in place 
Of frequent concourse — stood in every gate, 
JK every way, and walked in-every street, 
And, lifting up her voice, proclaimed : Be wise, 
Ye fools! be of an understanding heart. 
Forsake the wicked : come not near his house: 
PassZiy: make haste: depart, and turn away. 
Me follow — me, whose ways are pleasantness, 
\Vhose paths are peace, whose end is perfect joy 



Maxims. 1. A fnUhfu] fricva— \* a strong 
deft vrc. 2. Avoid thai which you blame in others. 
3. By doing nothing, we learn to do ill 4. Con- 
fession of a fault, makes half amends for it. 3 
Dependence and obedience, necessarily belong to 
youth. 6. Every art— is best taught by trample. 
7. Great designs require great consideration. 8. 
Misfortune is a touchstone of friendship. 9. 
Never sport wth pain, or poveriy. 10. Put no 
faith in tale-bearers. 

Anecdote. Point of Law Blacksfone, 
speaking of the right of a wife to dovier, as. 
serts, that if land abide in the husband a sin- 
gle moment, the wife shall be endowed there- 
of; and he adds, that the doctrine was ex- 
tended very far, by a jury in Wales, where 
the fit her and son were hanged at the same 
time; but the son was supposed to survive 
the father, by appearing to struggle the long- 
er ; whereby he became seized of an estate 
by survivorship; in consequence of which 
seizure, his wife — obtained a verdict for her 
dower. 

Riches and Talent. Nothing is more 
common than to see station and riches — pre- 
ferred to talent and goodness ; and yet few 
things are more absurd. The peculiar supe- 
riority of talent and goodness — over station 
and riches, may be seen from hence ; — that 
the influence of the for met — will always be 
the greatest, in that government, which is 
the purest; while that of the latter — will al- 
ways be the greatest — in the government 
that is the most corrupt : so that from the 
preponderance of the one, we may infer the 
soundness and vigor of the commonwealth; 
but from the other, its dotage and degeneracy. 
Varieties. 1. Indolence and indecision, 
tho' not vices in themselves, generally pre- 
pare the way for much sin and misery. 2 
If the mind be properly cultivated, it will 
produce a storehouse of precious fruits ; but 
if neglected, it will be overrun with noxious 
weeds and poisonous plants. 3. A kind 
benefactor — makes one happy — as soon as he 
can, and as much as he can. 4. The only 
sure basis of every government, is in the of 
fection of a people, rendered contented, and 
happy, by the justness and mildness, with 
which they are ruled. 5. As moisture is re- 
quired to the formation of every seed, so natu- 
ral truth — to the formation of first principles. 

They whom 
Nature's works can charm, with God himself 
Hold converse ! grow familiar, day by day, 
With His conceptions, act upon His plan, 
And form to His — tbe relish of their souls. 
Our present acts, tho' slightly we pass them by 
Are eo much seed— sown for Eternity. 

The devil can cite tcripture for nil purpose— 

An tvU iioul, producing holy wttne.it, 

It like a villain with a smiling chetk; 

A goodly apple, rotten at the heart ; 

O, what a gixxilr ouiside— falsehood h*th! 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



133 



374. As the principles of elocution are 
few and simple, and as practice alone makes 
perfect, there ate all kinds of examples pro- 
vided for those, who are determined to de- 
velop their minds through their bodies, and 
become all that God and nature — intended 
them to be. As the ear is most intimately 
connected with the affections — the motive- 
power of the intellect, it is absolutely neces- 
sary that the student should exercise aloud, 
that the voice and ear, as well as the thoughts 
and feelings, may be cultivated in harmony 
and sorrespondence. If, then, he finds the 
task severe, let him persevere, and never 
mind it. 

375. Examples. 1. The queen of Den- 
mark, in reproving her son, Hamlet, on ac- 
count of his conduct towards his step-father, 
■amom she married, shortly after the murder 
of the king, her husband, says to him, "Ham- 
let, you have your father much offended." 
To which he replies, with a circumflex on 
you, "Madam, (3) you — have my father 
much offended." He meant his own father : 
she — Iris s^ep-father; he would also intimate, 
that she was accessory to his father's mur- 
der; and Ins peculiar reply, was like daggers 
in her soul. 2. In the following reply of 
Death to Satan, there is a frequent occurrence 
of circumflexes, mingled with contempt'. 
"And reckon'st thou thyself with, spirits of 
h&aven, hell-doomed, and breath'st defiance 
here, and scorn, where / reign king ? and, 
to enrage thee more, — thy king, and lord . ? " 
The voice is circumflected on heaven, hell- 
doomed, king and thy, nearly an octave. 3. 
Come, show me what thoul't d^; woul't 
weep? woul't fight? woul't fast? woul't tear 
thyself? I'll do't. Dost thou come here to 
whine? to outface me, with leaping in her 
grave ? be buried quick with her, and so will 
J}; and if thou prate of mountains, let them 
throw millions of acres on us, till our 
ground, singeing her pate against the burn- 
ing zone, make Ossa — like a wart. Nay, 
an thoul't mouthe, i'll rant as well as thoii. 

Anecdote. A clergyman, once traveling 
in a stage-coach, was abruptly asked by one 
of the passengers, if any of the heathens 
would go to heaven. " Sir," answered the 
clergyman, "lam not appointed judge of 
the world, and, consequently, cannot tell; 
but, if ever you get: to heovn, you shall 
either find some o* .i.em tnere, or a good 
reason v.ny mey are not there." 

Too High or too Low. In pulpit elo- 
quence, the grand difficulty is to give the 
subject all the dignity it so fully deserves, 
without attaching any importance to our- 
selves. The christian minister cannot think 
too highly of his Master, or too humbly of 
himself. This is the secret art which capti- 
vates and improves an audience, and which 
all who see, will fancy they could imitate ; 
while manv who J ..y, win not succeed, be- 
cause they are not influenced by proper vm- 
lives an d do not use the right means. 

M 



Proverbs. 1. Forbearance— .s requisite in 

youth, in middle age, and in old age. 2. Peculiar- 
ities — are easily acquired; but it is verv difficult to 
eradicate them. 3. Good principles aie ot no ust 
to us, unless we are governed by them. 4. Co- 
quetry — is the vice of a small mind. 5. Pure met- 
als — shine brighter, the more they are tubbed. G. 
Pride— lives on very costly food,— its keepers 
happiness. 7. Extremes — are generally hurtful , 
for they often expose us to damage, or render ufl 
ridiculous. 8. In the days of affluence, always 
think of 'poverty. 9. Never let want come upon 
you, and make you remember the days of plenty. 
10. No one can become a good reader or speaker, 
in a few weeks, or a few months. 

Woman. I have always observed, says 
Ledyard, that women, in all countries, are 
civil, obliging, tender, and humane; that 
they are inclined to be gay and cheerful, tim- 
orous and modest, and that they do not, like 
man, hesitate to perform a generous action. 
Not haughty, arrogant, or supercilious, they 
are full of courtesy, and fond of society; more 
liable, in general, to err than man, but in 
general, also, more virtuous, and performing 
more good actions than he. To a woman, 
whether civilized or savage, I never address- 
ed myself in the language of decency and 
friendship, without receiving a decent and 
friendly ansuwr. With man it has been often 
otherwise. In wandering through the barren 
plains of inhospitable Denmark; thro' hon- 
est Sweden, and frozen Lapland, rude and 
churlish Finland, unprincipled Russia, and 
the wide-spread regions of the wandering 
Tartar; if hungry, dry, cold, wet, or sick, 
the women — have ever been friendly to me 
and uniformly so ; and to add to this virtue, 
(so worthy to be called benevolence,) their 
actions have been performed in so free and 
kind a manner, that if I were dry, I drank 
the sv)eetest draught, and if hungry, ate the 
coarsest morsel, with a double relish. 

Varieties. 1. When Baron, the actor, 
came from hearing one of MassillotSs ser- 
mons, he said to one of his comrades of the 
stage ; here is an orator; we — are only or 
tors. 2. Some people — wash themselves lor 
the sake of being clean; others, for the sake 
of appearing so. 3. Of all the pursuits, by 
which property is acquired, none is prefera- 
ble to agriculture, — none more productive, 
and none more worthy of a gentleman. 4. 
It is a maxim with unprincipled politicians, 
to destroy, where they cannot intimidate, 
nor persuade. 5. Good humor, anu mental 
charms, are as much superior to external 
beauty, as mind is superio- to matter, C. 
Be wise, be pnulent, b«- discreet, and tan' 
perate, in all things 

Patriots have toil' 1 ', and in their country's cause 
Bled nobly, a»--. their deeds, as they deserve. 
Receive »Vuud recompense. We give in charge 
Their iiames — to the sweet lyre. The historic tnus<r 
Pi>,ud of her treasure, marches with it — down 
i'o latest times; and sculpture in her turn, 
Gives bond, in stone — and ever during inn 
To guard them — and immortalize Iter tmj. 



134 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



376. Intonations. The intonations arc. 
opposite to monotones, and mean the rise and 
fall of the voice, in its natural movements 
through a sentence: they are demonstrated 
in music, and here, in elocution. In all com- 
mon kinds of reading and speaking, the voice 
should not generally rise and fall more than 
one note, in its passage from syllable to syl- 
lable, and from word to word : its movement 
will then be gentle, easy and flowing. But 
when the passion, or sentiment to be exhibit- 
ed, is powerfully awakening or exciting, it 
may rise or fall several notes, according to 
the predominance of feeling. 

377. Our (6) sight — is the most (4) per- 
fect, and most (5) delightful — of all our 
senses. (4) It fills the mind with the largest 
variety of (3) ideas ; (5) converses with its 
objects at the greatest (6) distance,- and con- 
tinues the longest in (5) action, without being 

(4) tired — or (3) satiated, with its proper en- 
joyments. The (6) sense of (8) feeling, 
can, indeed, give us the idea of (5) extension, 
(6) shape, and all other properties of matter, 
tlvt are perceived by the (5) eye, except (4) 
colors. (3) At the same time — it is very much 

(5) straightened — and (4) confined in its ope- 
rations, to the (3) number, (4) bulk, and (5) 
distance, of its peculiar objects. 

378. When we read, or speak, without any 
feeling, the voice ranges between our first 
and fourth notes ; when there is a moderate 
degree of feeling, and the subject somewhat 
interesting, it ranges between our second and 
sixth notes ; when there is a high degree of 
feeling and interest, it ranges between our 
fourth and eighth notes; descending, how- 
ever, to the third and first, in a cadence, or 
close of the effort. It is highly necessary to 
keep the voice afloat, and never let it run 
aground; that is, let the feeling and thought 
keep it on the proper pitches, and do not let 
it descend to the first, or ground-note, till the 
piece is completed ; except in depressed mo- 
notony. Memorize the preceding, and talk 
it off in an easy, graceful and appropriate 
manner. 

Abstract Quest ton. Which is more pro- 
bable, that our judgment, in respect to exter- 
nal phenomena, has been warped, by compar- 
ing their operations with those of the mind,- 
or, that our metaphysical mistakes have been 
occasioned, by forming a false analogy be- 
tween its internal operations, and outward 
appearances ? 

The midnight moon — serenely smiles 

O'er nature's soft repose ; 
No lowering cloud obscures the sky, 

No ruffling tempest blows. 
Now, every passion — sinks to rest; 

The throbbing heart lies still ; 
And varying schemes of life— no more 
J>islract the laboring will. 



Proverbs 1. A clear eonsciente fears no <nv 
cusation. 2. An open door will tempt a saim. \S 
Confidence — i» the companion of success. 4. 
Cruelty to a woman is — the crime ofamonster. 5. 
A smart reproof is better than smooth deceit. G. A dd 
not trouble to the grief -worn heart. 7. Affecuilion 
— is at best a deformity. 8. Bear misfortunes with 
patience and fortitude. 9. A good maxim is never 
out of season. 10. Ambition— never looks behind. 
11. A wise man wants but little. 12. Knoxledgt 
— makes no one happy. 

Anecdote. A tragedy of jEschylus wu 
once represented before the Athenians, in 
which it was said of one of the characters, 
" that he cared more to be just, than to appeal 
so." At these words, all eyes were instantly 
turned upon Aristides, as the man who, of 
all the Greeks, most merited that distinguish 
ed character : and ever after he received, by 
universal consent, the surname of — " The 
Just." 

Courtesy. St. Paul, addressing himself to 
christians of all grades and classes, even down 
to menial servants, exhorts them to be cour- 
teous. Courteousness — must mean, therefore, 
a something, which is within the reach of all 
sorts of people ; and, in its primary and best 
sense, is exactly such a behavior, as sponta- 
neously springs from a heart, warm with 
benevolence, and unwilling to give needless 
pain, or uneasiness to a fellow-being. We 
have no more right, wantonly or carelessly 
to wound the mind, than to wound the body 
of a fellow-being; and, in many instance*, 
the former — is the more cruel of the two. 

Varieties. 1. Some start in life, withcnl 
any leading object at all ; some, with a low 
aim, and some, with a high one ; and just in 
proportion to the elevation at which they aim, 
will generally be their success. 2. Guard 
against fraud, and imposition ; and forego 
some advantages, rather than gain them at a 
risk, that cannot be ascertained. 3. In the 
determination of doubtful and intricate cases, 
the nicest discrimination, and great solidity 
of judgment, are required. 4. We have an 
instinctive expectation of finding nature 
eren/where the same, — always consistent, 
and true to herself; but whence this expec- 
tation? 5. Is there not something in the 
native air of true freedom, to alter, expand, 
and improve the external form, as well as the 
internal? 6. Is not affluence — a snare, and 
poverty, — a temptation ? 7. Man is a true 
epitome of the spiritual world, or world of 
mind; and to know himself , is the perfection 
of wisdom. 

CURIOSITY. 

It came from Heaven. — it reign'd i.j Eden's shades, 
Tt roves on earth — and every walk invades: 
Childhood — and age — alike its influence own, 
It haunts the beggar's nook, the monarch's throne' 
Hangs o'er the cradle, leans above the bier. 
Gazed on ol<" Babel's tower, — and lingers hen 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



135 



370* IXTOXATTONS AKI) MELODY OF 

Speech. By the first — is meant the move- 
ment of the voice th-ough the different notes 
Wf the scale, As-cending and DE-scending, 
with an appropriate and agreeable variety 
of sounds; by the second, an agreeable suc- 
cession of sounds, either in speech or song. 
A dull repetition of words or sounds, on 
nearly the same pitch, is very grating to the 
ear, and disgusting to correct taste ; and yet 
it is one of the most common faults of the 
bar, the senate and pulpit ; indeed, in every 
p ace where there is public speaking : which 
is the melancholy result of the usual course 
of teaching children to read. 

380. Examples partially exhibited. 
1 (5) Seest thou a man (5) diligent in his (6) bu- 
siness ? (5) He shall stand before (4) kings, (3) 
he shallnotstand before (5) mean men. 2. (3) 
swear not by the (6) moon, the (5) inconstant 
(4) moon, (3) that monthly (5) changes in its 
circled (3) orb. 3. Said Mr. Pitt, to his aged 
accuser, in debate, (4) "But (6) youth, it 
seems, is not my (o) only (3) crime, (4) I have 
been accused — of (5) acting (6) a (8) theatri- 
cal part." 4. (5) Standing on the ascent of 
the (6) past, we survey the (5) present, and 

(4) extend our views into (3) futurity. 5. 

(5) No one — will ever be the (4) happier, for 
(5) talents, or (4) riches, (3) unless he makes 
a right (3) use of them. 6. (5) Truths — have 
(4) life in them ; and the (6) effect of that 
life is (3) unceasing expansion. 7. (6) He, 
who loves the (5) Lord, with all his (4) heart, 
and his neighbor as (4) himself, needs no (5) 
compass, or (4) helm to steer his (3) course ; 
because (5) truth and (4) love are his (3) 
Wind and (2) tide. N. B. The inflections, cir- 
cumflexes, &c, commence with the accented 
vowel, which is supposed to be on the note 
indicated by the preceding figure. 

381. Promiscuous Examples without 
Notatiox. The predominant characteristic 
of the female mind is affection : and that of 
the male mind is thought : tho" both have af- 
fection and thought ; but disparity — does not 
imply inferiority. The sexes are intended 
for different spheres of life, and are created 
in conformity to their destination, by Him,, 
who bids the oak — brave the fury of the 
tempest, and the Alpine flower — lean its 
cheek on the bosom of eternal snow. 

Abstract Question. Is not that pro- 
pensity of t)\2 human mind, which seeks for 
a medium of communication, between two 
physical phenomena, to be traced to the fact, 
that e- ery admitted truth, is derived from a 
medium of knowledge; and that there is a 
connection among all intellectual phenome- 
na ; so much so, that we cannot conceive a 
new idea, without a medium of communica- 
tion ! 



Laconics. 1. I5y minding our own bminess, 
we shall be more useful, more benevolent, mora 
respected, and ten times happier. 2. That stu- 
dent will live miserably, who lies down, like a 
camel, under his burden. 3. Remember, while 
you live, it is by looks — that men deceive. 4. A 
foolish friend may cause more woz, Than could 
indeed the ivisest foe. 5. He, who confides in a 
person of no honor, may consider himself very 
lucky, if he is not a sufferer by it. 6. The condi- 
tion of mankind is such, that we must not believe 
every smooth speech — the cover of a kind inten- 
tion. 7. Who is wise? He who learns from every 
one. 8. Who is rich ? He, who is contented. 9. 
Nothing is so dumb — as deep emotion. 10. Where 
there is much mystery, there is generally much 
ignorance. 11. Catch not soon at offence. 12. 
Whoso loseth his spirits, loseth all. 

Anecdote. Choice of a Husband. An 
Athenian, who was hesitating, whether to 
give his daughter in marriage to a man of 
worth with a small fortune, or to a rich man, 
Who had no other recommendation, went to 
consult Themistocles on the subject. "I 
would bestow my daughter," said Themisto- 
cles, " upon a man without money, rather 
than upon money without a man." 

True Philosophy — consists in doing all 
the good that we can, in learning all the 
good we can, in teaching to others all the 
good we can, in bearing, to the best of our 
ability, the various ills of life, a^d in enjoy' 
ing, with gratitude, every honest pleasure- 
that comes in our way. 

Varieties. 1. Should not our intentions, 
as well as our actions'- — be good? 2. True 
love — is of sloic groivth, mutual and recipro- 
cal, and founded on esteem. 3. Graces, and 
accomplishments — are too often designed for 
beaux-czching, and coquetry. 4. There is 
time for all things. 5. An individual — in- 
clined to magnify every good, and minify 
every evil — must be a pleasing companion., 
or partner — for life, — whether male or fe- 
male. 6. Knowledge — is not wisdom ; it ia 
only the raw material, from which the beau- 
tiful fabric of wisdom is produced; there- 
fore, let us not spend our days in gathering 
materials, and live, and die, without a shel- 
ter. 7. Every evil — has its limit; which, 
when passed, plunges the wicked into mis- 
ery. 8. One thief in the house, is more to be 
dreaded than ten — in the street. 9. Tho 
more haste, generally the worst speed. 10. 
The moral government, under which we live, 
is a kingdom of uses ; and whatever we pos* 
sess, is given us for use ; and with it, the op* 
portunity and power of using it. 

Thou art, O God, the life and light 

Of all this wondrous world we see, 
Its glow by day. its smile by night, 

.Are but ref.ettions — caught from thee; 
Where'er we turn, thy glories shine, 
And all things/atV and bright are diir e. 



136 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



:ts-2. Intonations Continued. Lister. 
attentively, to ■ person under the influence 
of nature, of his own feelings and thoughts : 
he relates starlet, supports arguments, com- 
mands those under his authority, speaks to 
persons at a distance, utters exclamations of 
anger and rage, Joy and rapture, pours 
fort') lamentations of sorrow and grief, 
breathes affect ion, love, &c. in different pitch- 
es, tones, qualities, emphasis, infection, and 
circumflexes, elevations and depressions of 
voice. The only possibility of success, there- 
fore, is — to get perfect control of the vocal 
organs, by practicing these principles, and 
conforming the whole manner to the sense 
and objects of the composition. 

383. Intonation and Melody. These 
examples are given as general guides; the 
figures refer to the notes in the Diatonic 
Scale. 1. (4) Eut, (5) from the (4) tomb, (5) 
the (4) voice of (5) nature (6) cries, (6) And, 
(5) in our (4) ashes, (5) live (4) their won-(3) 
ted (2) fires. 2. But (5) yonder comes, (4) 
rejoicing in the (6) east, (5) The (4) powerful 

(3) king of (2) day. 3. (6) Awake! 'u) 
ARISE ! (6) or (5) be (3) forever (2) fallen. 
4. (3) He expired in a ^5) victualiKg-house, 

(4) which I hope (5) 1 (3) shall (2) not. 7. 

(5) Fair (6) angel, thy (5) dftvre, which tends 
to (6) know The work* of (5) God, doth (4) 
merit (3) praise. 8 [o) Such (4) honors Ilion 
to (6) her lover ^aid, And (5) peaceful slept 
(4) the migh*/ (3) Hector's (2) shade. Note. 
Construe* a scale on faint ruled paper, and 
place Ij.e ivords on it as indicated; the same 
as notes are on the musical staff. 

Miscellaneous. 1. Beauty — is the out- 
ward form of goodness : and this is the rea- 
son, we love it instinctively, without think- 
ing why we love: but we cease to love, when 
we find it unaccompanied with truth and 
goodness. 2. Make not your opinions, the 
criterion of right and wrong: but make 
right and wrong — the criterion of your ac- 
I'ujus and principles. 

Few — bring back at eve, 

Immaculate, the planners of the morn ; 

Something we Uiought — is blotted, we resolved — 

Is shaken, we renounced — returns again. 

There is no greater punishment of vice — 

Than thru it have its own will; 

Hence, guilty — infernal love becomes the 

Most deadly hate. 

The intent, and net the deed, 
Is in our power; and therefore, who dares greatly, 
Dots greatly. 

6. Words — are things ; a small drop of 
ink, (falling like dew — ) upon thought, pro- 
duces that, which makes thousands, perhaps 
millions think. 7. Something — is at all 
tiroes — flowing into us. 

Too much die beautiful — we pr/.e , 
The useful— cfen we de'p.j>e. 



Proverbs. 1. Tl , remedy for injuries in— 
1101 to runonber them. ti. To read, at d not under- 
stand, l& to pursue, and not overtake. 3. Truth re« 
fines, but does not obscure. 4. He who teaches, 
often learns himself. 5. Worth — has been uudei 
rated, ever since wealth — lias been overrated. 6 
Antiquity — cannot sanction an error, nor novelty 
injure a truth. 7. A man in a passion, ridea a 
horse that runs aicay with him. 8. A small Ustk 
will sink a great ship. 9. Never forget a good 
turn. 10. Lying — is the vice of a slave. 11. Self- 
conceit— is the attendant of ignorance. 12. The 
love of society is natural. 

Anecdote. The emperor of China ^in- 
quired of Sir George Staunton, * Mxxt the 
manner in which physicians *.ere paid in 
England. When he was m^e to understand 
what the prr'rfice was, ► , exclaimed, — " Can 
any man in England afford to be ill! Now, 
I have four phy ;icians, and pay all of them 
a weekly sat'// y ; but the moment I am sick, 
that salary is stopped, till I am well again ; 
there fMe, my indisposition is never of long 
d'^ation." 

Woman. The prevailing manners of an 
age depend, more than we are aware of, or 
are willing to allow, on the conduct of the 
women : this is one of the principal things 
on which tlie great machine of human society 
turns. Those, who allow the influence which 
female graces have in contributing to polish 
the manners of men, would do well to reflect, 
how great an influence female morals must 
also have on their conduct. How much, 
then, is it to be regretted, that women — should 
ever sit down, contented, to polish, when they 
are able to -reform — to entertain, when they 
might instruct. Nothing delights men more 
than their strength of understanding, when 
true gentleness of manners is its associate; 
united, they become irresistible orators, blcss*d 
with the power of persuasion, fraught with 
the sweetness of inst ruction, making woman 
the highest ornament of human nature. 

Varieties. 1. Fear — is a bad preserver 
of anything intended to endure,- but love — 
will generally ensure fidelity, even to thzend. 
2. He, who knowingly defends the wrong 
side of a question, pays a very bad compli- 
ment to his Itearers: as much as to say ; False- 
hood, supported by my talents, is stronger 
than truth, supported by yours. 3. Before a 
man should be convicted of a libel, the jury 
must be satisfied, that it was his intention tc 
libel ; not to state facts, which he believed to 
be true, or, reasoning*, which he thongia 
Just. 4. The difference between «iie word 
of God, and the com posit'/// ts of man, is as 
great, as between /tal flame and painted 
flame. 5. dissimulation, even the most in* 
nnwui is ever productive of embarrassments; 
whether the design is evil, or not, artifice i» 
always dangerous, and almost inevitably dts 
graceful. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



131 



384. Revisions. Let all the preceding 

principles be reviewed, with an illustration of 
each, and endeavor to fix them, permanently, 
in the mind, by seeing their truth, and feeling 
their power in practice ; so that you can write 
a work yourself on the philosophy of mind 
and voice. Remember, that nothing is yours, 
till you make it your own, by understanding 
it scientifically, rationally and affectuously, 
and then by applying it to its proper object : 
do not forget effects, causes, ends, their suc- 
cessive order, and simultaneous development. 
eve's lamext ox leaving paradise. 
(Plaintive, with quantity.) 
O, unexpected stroke, worse than of Death! 
Must I thus leave thee. Paradise? thus leave 
Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades, 
Fit haunt of gods? where I had hoped to spend, 
(Quiet, tho' sad.) the respite of that day, 
That must be mortal to us both ; 
O flowers, (thai never will in other climate grow,) 
My early visitation, and my last 
At ev'n. which I bred up, with tender hand, 
From the first opening bud, and gave ye names ; 
Who. now, shall rear you to the sun, and rank 
Your tribes, and water from the ambrosial /own*? 
Thee, (lastly,) nuptial bower, by me adorned 
With what to sight, or smell, was sweet, from thee 
How shall 1 part, and whither wander — down 
Into a lower world, to this — obscure 
And wild? How shall we breathe in other air, 
Less pure, accustomed to immortal fruits ! 

385. How mean, — how timid, — how ab- 
ject, must that spirit be, which can sit down, 
— contented with mediocrity. As for myself 
— all that is within me is on ./ire. I had ra- 
ther be torn into a thousand pieces, than relax 
my resolution, of reaching the sublimesl 
heights of virtue — and knowledge, of good- 
ness — and truth, of love — and wisdom. 
Nothing is so arduous, — nothing so admir- 
able, in human affairs, but may be attained 
Dy the industry of man. We are descended 
from heaven ; thither let us go, whence we 
derive our origin. Let nothing satisfy us, — 
lower than the summit of all excellence. 

Nominalists and Realists. The Nom- 
inalists — were a sect, the followers of Ros- 
celinus and Abelard: according to these 
philosophers, there are no existences in na- 
ture corresponding to general terms, and the 
objects of our attention in all our general 
speculations, are not ideas, but words. The 
Realists — were their opponents, and adhered 
to the principles of Aristotle. 
Oft — may the spirits of the dead — descend 
To watch— the silent slumbers of a. friend; 
To hover — round his evening walk — unseen, 
And hold sweet converse — on the dusky green ; 
To hail the spot — where first their friendship grew, 
And heaven — and nature — opened to their view. 
Oft, when he trims his cheerful hearth, and see* 
A smiling circle — emulous to please, 
There— may these gentle guests — delight to dwell, 
And bless the scene -thev loved in life so well. 

18 M2 



laconics. 1. The grea battlt and contest 
among politicians is — not how the government 
shall be administered, but ivho shall administer it. 
2. They who go to church out of vanity, or curi- 
osity, and not for worship and instruction, should 
not value themselves on account of their religion; 
for it is not worth a straw. 3. Allow time for 
consideration ; everything is badly executed, that 
is done by force or violence. 4. Occasional mirth, 
is not incompatible with wisdom; and the man of 
reserved habits, may sometimes bf, gay. 5. Happy 
are they, who draw lessons of prudence — from the 
dangers, in which others are involved. 6. Elo- 
quence — can pierce the reluctant wonder of the 
world, and make even monarchs tremble on their 
thrones. 

Anecdote. Spinola. " Pray, of what did 
your brother die ?" said theMar-quis Spinola, 
one day to Sir Horace Vere. " He died, sir,'' 
replied he, " of having nothing to do." "Alas ! 
sir," said Spinola, "that is enough to kill any 
general of us all." Mostesquieu says, " We, 
in general, place idleness among the beati- 
tudes of heaven ; it should rather, I think, be 
put amid the tortures of hell. Austin calls it 
— the burying a man alive" 

Female Education. How greatly is it 
to be regretted, that for the benefit of both 
sexes, women are not generally so educated, 
that their conversations might be still much 
more useful to us, as well as beneficial to 
themselves ! If, instead of filling their heads 
with trifles, or worse than trifles, they were 
early taught what might be really us(ful, 
they would not then be so continually in 
pursuit of silly, ridiculous, expensive, and 
many times criminal amusement; neither 
would their conversation be so insipid and 
impertinent, as it too often is. On the con- 
trary, were their minds properly improved 
with knowledge, which it is certain they are 
exceedingly capable of, how much more 
agreeable would they be to themselves, and 
how much more improving and delightful to 
us ? How truly charming does beauty ap- 
pear, when adorned by good nature, good 
sense, and knowledge ? And when beauty 
fades, as soon it must, there will then be 
those qualities and accomplishments remain' 
ing, which cannot fail to command great re- 
gard, esteem, and affection. 

VARIETIES. 

But— shall we wear these glories for a day, 
Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them? 
While there is hope, do not distrust the gods, 
But wait, at least, till Cesar's near approach, 
Force us to yield. Twill never be too late — 
To sue for chains, and own a ( onqueror. 

In faith, and hope, the world will disagree, 
But all mankind's concern — is charity. 
Tis education — forms the common mind, 
Just as »' k. tioig is bent, the tree-s inclined. 
The mind, that would be happy, must be great 
Great in its wishes, great in i*s surveys; 
Extended vinos, a :iai row mind extend. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



386. As so much depends upon the proper 
movement of the voice, through the different 
notes of the scale, and as our primary in- 
struction in reading is often diametrically op- 
posed to what is natural, it is deemed neces- 
sary to be more explicit in directions, as well 
as in examples. Imitate, with the voice, ac- 
companied by corresponding motions of the 
hand, the gentle undulations of the waters, 
when the waves run moderately high ; let- 
ting the movement of your voice resemble 
that of a small boat. Observe the various 
movements of different kinds of birds through 
the air, some bobbing up and down, others 
moving more gracefully ; some napping their 
wings, others sailing, soaring : but the move- 
ments of the voice are infinitely more vari- 
ous than all other external motions; for it 
contains them all. 

THE EIGHT NOTES OF THE SCALE. 



cries, and 
he the nature in our es live 
tomb voice of ash- their won- 

ted 



4. But 
3. 

2. fire* 

1 

Blessed — we sometimes are! and I nmnow 
Happy in quiet feelings ; for the tones — 
Of a pleasant company of friends — 
Were in my ear, just now, and gentler thoughts 
From spirits, whose high character I know 
And I retain their influence, as the air — 
Retains the softness — of departed day. 
There is a spell — in every floiver, 

A siceetness — in each spray, 
And every simple bird — has power — 

To please us — with its lay. 
And there is music — on the breeze, 

That sports along the glade, 
And crystal dew-drops — on the trees, 

The gems — by fancy made. 
O, there is joy— and happiness, 

In every thing I see, 
Which bids my soul rise up — and bless 

The God, that blesses me 
Method. In speaking extempore, or in 
writing, method, or the proper arrangement 
of the thoughts, is of the first importance ; 
to attain which, you must fix, in your mind, 
the precise object you have in view, and 
never lose sight of it; then, determine the 
grand divisions; which should be natural, 
and distinct ; not an unnecessary thought, 
or illustration — should be admitted: and 
even in the amplification of the subject, eve- 
ry part should have its proper place, and all 
— present a whole. 

Anecdote. Mr. Summerfield. It is said, 
of the late Mr. Summerfield, that being asked 
by a bishop, where he was born, he replied, 
- 1 -vas born in England, and born again in 
Ireland.' 1 '' " What do you mean .?" inquired 
the bishop. " Art thou a master in Israel, and 
knowest not these things!" was the reply. 



Laconics. 1. 'The antidote, 10 he banc Ail a* 
fluenoe of flattery is, for every o.ie to fxamint 
himself, and truly estimate his own qualities, and 
character. 2. Let us make ourselves steadfast in 
what is certainly true, and we shall be able to 
answer objections, or reject them as unworthy of an 
answer. 3. Argument — cannot disprove fact; no 
two opposing facts can be produced; all objec- 
tions to a fact must therefore be negative. 4. Ed- 
ucation — includes all the influences, that serve td 
unfold the faculties, — and determine the char 
acter ; thus involving the mental, and physical. 5. 
To render good for evil, is God-like ; to render 
good for good, is man-like; to render evil for evil, is 
beast-like; to render evil for good — is devil-like. 

Varieties. Has a wise and good God — 
furnished us with desires, which have no cor- 
respondent objects, and raised expectations 
in our breasts, with no other view but to dis- 
appoint them'.' Are we to be forever in 
search of happiness, without arriving at it, 
either in this world or in the next ? Are we 
formed with a passionate longing for immor- 
tality, and yet destined to perish, after this 
short period of existence ? Are we prompt- 
ed to the noblest actions, and supported 
through life, under the severest hardships 
and most delicate temptations, by the hopes 
of a reward, which is visionary and chimeri- 
cal, — by the expectation of praises, of which 
it is utterly impossible for us, ever to have 
the least knowledge or enjoyment ? 

Effects of Knowledge. The more 
widely knowledge is spread, the more will 
they be prized, whose happy lot it is — to ex- 
tend its bounds, by discovering new truths, 
to multiply its uses — by inventing new modes 
of applying it in practice. Real knowledge 
— never prompted either turbulence, or un- 
belief; but its progress is the forerunner o.' 
liberality and enlightened toleration. Who 
so dreads these, let him tremble ; for he may 
be well assured, that their day is at length 
come, and must put to sudden flight the evil 
spirits of tyranny and persecution, wliich 
haunted the long night, now gone down the 
sky. 

VARIETIES. 

Soft peace she brings wherever she arrives; 
She builds our quiet, as she forms our lives; 
Lays the rough path of peevish nature even, 
And opens, in each breast, a little heaven 
Man— is the rugged lofty pine, 

That frowns o'er many a ware-beat shore ; 
Woman's the slender — graceful vine, 
Whose curling tendrils — round it twine, 
And deck its rough bark — sweetly o'er. 
Teach me to soothe the helpless oiphans grief, 
With lively aid — the widow's woes assuage 
To m&ry's moving cries — to yield relief, 
And be the sure resource of drooping agt. 
Our doubts- are traitors, 
And make us lose the good— we oft might w%n. 
By fearing to attempt. 



PHINCirLES OF ELOCUTION. 



13* 



387. Cadence — means a descetil, or fall 
of the voice : here, it means the proper man- 
ner of closing a sentence. In the preceding 
examples, the pupil sees how it is made. 
The best cadence, that which rests most 
pleasantly on the ear, is the fall of a triad; 
i. e. a regular gradation of three notes from 
the prevalent pitch of voice ; which is gen- 
erally the fourth or fifth : tho 1 different voices 
are keyed on different pitches: hence, each 
must be governed by his own peculiarities 
in this respect. Beware of confounding ca- 
dence with inflections; and never end a sen- 
tence with -a. feeble and depressed utterance. 
The' nature — weigh our talents, and dispense, 
To every man, his modicum of sense, 

Yet — much — depends, as in the tiller's toil, 

On culture and the sowing of the ami. 

The brave man — is not he, who' feels no fear, 

For that — were stupid — and irrational; — 

But he, whose noble soul his fear subdues, [from. 

And bravely dares the danger, which he shrinks 

lie holds no parly with unmanly/eof*; 

Where duty bids, he confidently steers; 

Faces a thousand dangers at her call, 

And trusting in his God, surmounts them all. 

What is life? 
Ti8 not to stalk about, and draw in fresh air, 
From time to time, or gaze upon the sun; 
'Tis to he FREE. 

388. Word-Painting. There is noth- 
ing in any of the other fine arts, but what is 
involved in oratory. The letters are analo- 
gous to uncompounded paints; words — to 
paints prepared for use; and, when arranged 
into appropriate and significant sentences, 
they form pictures of the ideas on the can- 
vas of the imagination: hence, composition, 
whether written or spoken, is like a picture, 
exhibiting a great variety of features, not 
only with prominence, but with degrees of 
prominence : to do which, the painter, 
speaker, or writer, applies shades of the 
same color to features of the same class, and 
•ypposing colors to those of different classes. 

Government. The ordinary division of 
governments into republican, monarchical, 
and despotic, appears essentially erroneous; 
for there are but. two kinds of government. 
good and bad : governments are national 
and special. The essence of the former — 
consists in the will of the nation constitu- 
tionally expressed ; that of the latter, where 
there are other sources of power, or right, 
than the will of the nation. 

Anecdote. Punctual Hearer. A wo- 
man, who always used to attend public wor- 
ship with great punctuality, and took care 
to be always in time, was asked how it was 
— she could always come so early; she an- 
swered very wisely, " that it was part of 
her religion — not to disturb the religion of 

I hate to see a scholar gape, 

And yawn upon his seat, 
Or lay his head upon his desk, 

A s if almost asleep. 



Liaconics. 1. No change in txttmal appear* 
ance, can alter that, which is radically torong. 2. 
Seize m\ opportunity, when it presents itself; if 
once lost, it may never be regained. 3. Vicious 
men, endeavor to impose on the world, by assum- 
ing a semblance of virtue, to conceal their bad 
habits, and evil propensities. 4. Beware of self- 
love, for it hardens the heart, and shuts the mind to 
all that is good and true. 5. The excessive pleas- 
ure one feels — in talking of himself, ought to lr.aka 
him apprehensive, that he affords little to his au- 
ditor. 6. In our intercourse with the world, we 
should often ask ourselves this question — How 
would I like to be treated thus ? 7. In all agis 
and countries, unprincipled men may be found, 
who will slander the most uptight character, and 
find others as base as themselves, to join in the pro- 
pagation of their falsehoods . 

Confinement of Debtors. The prosper- 
ity of a people is proportionate to the num- 
ber of hands and minds usefully employed. 
To the community, sedition is a fever, cor- 
ruption is a gangrene, and idleness is an 
atrophy. Whatever body, and whatever so- 
ciety — icastes more than it acquires, must 
gradually decay: and every being, that con- 
tinues to be fed, and ceases to labor, takes 
away something from the public stock. The 
confinement, therefore, oi any man in the 
sloth and darkness of a prison, is a loss to 
the nation, and no gain to the creditor. 
For, of the multitudes, who are pining in 
those cells of misery, a very S7na.ll part is 
suspected of any fraudulent act, by which 
they retain, what belongs to others. The 
rest are imprisoned by the wantonness of 
pride, the malignity oi revenge, or the acri- 
mony of disappointed expectation. 

VARIETIES. 

'Tis slander : 
Whose edge— is sharper than the sword, whose tongue 
Outveuonis all the worms of Nile ; whose breath — 
Rides on the sporting- winds, and doth belie 
All corners of the world : kings, queens, and state*, 
Maids and matrons, the secrets of the grave — 
This viperous slander enters. 
Mercy to him that shows it, is the rule, 
And righteous limitation of its act, 
By which heaven moves, in pardoning guilt) man. 
And he, that shows none, (being ripe in years, 
And conscious — of the outrage he commits,) 
Shall seek it, and not find it, in his turn. 
His words — are bonds; bis oaths — are oracles; 
Hii love — sincere; his thoughts— immaculate; 
His ttars — pure messengers, sent from his heart: 
Hi» heart— is as far from fraud,— as heaven— from eai ih. 
Be tamest'. — why shouldst thou for custom's sake, 
Lay a cold hand upon thy hearts warm pulse, 
And crush those feelings back, which, uttered, make 
Links in the chain of love? Why thus convulse 
A soul, that overflows with sympathy 
For kindred souls, when thou art called to be 
The Heart's Apostle, loving, pure, and true? 
The smooth hypocrisies, the polished lies, 
The cold dead forms— and hollow mockeries 

Current among the many, by the few, 
Who know their manhood, should be held in scora 
Speak freely thy free thought — and other souls 
To thine shall answer — as from living coals 
Together kindled, light and heat are born! 



140 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



389. Dynamics. This, in mechanical phi- 
losophy, means the science ofmoving-powers ; 
in elocution and singing, it relates to the 
force, loudness, harshness, strength, rough- 
ness, softness, swell, diminish, smoothness, 
abruptness, gentleness of voice: that is, its 
qualities, which are as various as those of the 
human mind ; of which, indeed, they are the 
representatives. Observe — that the names of 
these qualities, when spoken naturally, ex- 
press, or echo, their natures. The Loud, 
Rough, Soft, Smooth, Harsh, Forcible, Full, 
Strong, Tremulous, Slender, &c. all of which 
are comprehended in force, pitch, time, quan- 
tity, and abruptness of voice. 

390. Let the following examples be ren- 
dered perfectly familiar — the feelings, tho'ts, 
words and appropriate voice : nothing, how- 
ever, can be done, as it should be, without 
having the most important examples memo- 
rized, here and elsewhere. (Loud) " But 
when loud surges — lash the sounding shore ; 
(Rough) The hoarse rough voice, should like 
the torrent roar." (Soft) " Soft is the strain, 
when Zephyr gently blows; (Smooth) And 
the smooth stream, in smoother numbers 
flj«-3." (Harsh) "On a sudden, open fly, 
with impetuous recoil and jarring sound, the 
infernal doors, and on their hinges grate harsh 
thunder.''' (Soft) " Heaven opened wide 
her ever-during gates (harmonious sound) 
on golden hinges turning." (Soft) "How 
charming — is divine philosophy ! (Harsh) 
Not harsh, and crabbed, as dull fools sup- 
pose. (Soft) But musical — as is Apollo's 
lute." (Harsh, Strong and Forcible.) "Blow 
wind, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow 
your cataracts, and hurricane spout, till you 
have drenched our steeples. You sulphuri- 
ous and thought-executing fires, vaunt couri- 
ers to oafe-cleaving thunderbolts ,- and thou, 
all shaking thunder, strike flat the thick ro- 
tundity of the world." 

(Soft and Smooth.) 
How sweet the moon-light sleeps upon this bank; 
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of rmisic, 
Creep in our ears ; soft stillness, and the night, 
Become the touches of sweet harmony. 
( Quick and Joyous. ) 
Let the merry belts ring round, 
And the jocund rebeck sound, 
To many a youth— and many a maid, 
Dancing — in the checkered shade. 
A want of occupation — is not rest, 
A mind quite vacant — is a mind distressed. 
As rolls the ocean's changing tide, 

So— human feelings — ebb— and flow .«— 
And who could in a breast confide, 

Where stormy passions— ever glow! 
Remote from cities — lived a swain, 
onvexed — with all the cares of gain; 
His head— was silvered o'er with age, 
And long experience — made him sage. 



Maxims. 1. The credit that is gjt by a lie, 
—only lasts till the truth comes out. 2. Zeal, 
mixed with love, is harmless— as the dove. 3. 
A covetous man is, as he always/ancies, in want. 
4. Hypocrites— first cheat the world, and at last, 
themselves. 5. The borrower is slave to the lender, 
and the security — to both. 6. Some are too stiffi 
to bend, and too old to mend. 7. Truth ha3 al- 
ways a sure foundation. 8. He, who drawl 
others into evil courses — is the devil's agent. 9. 
To do good, is the right way to find good. 10. 
A spur in the head — is worth two in the heel. 11. 
Better spared, than ill spent. 12. Years teach 
more than books. 

Anecdote. Love and Liberty". When an 
Armenian prince — had been taken captive 
with his princess, by Cyrus, and was asked, 
what lie would give to be restored to his king' 
dom and liberty, he replied : " As for my 
kingdom and liberty, I value them not; but 
if my blood — would redeem my princess, I 
would cheerfully ghe it for her." When 
Cyrus had liberated them both, the princess 
was asked, what she thought of Cyrus ? To 
which she replied, " I did not observe him ; 
my whole attention was fixed upon the gene- 
rous man, who would have purchased my 
liberty with his life." 

Prejudice — may be considered as a con- 
tinual false medium of viewing things ; for 
prejudiced persons — not only never speak 
well, but also, never think well, of those 
whom they dislike, and the whole character 
and conduct is considered — with an eye to 
that particular thing which offends them. 

Varieties. 1. Every thing that is an ob- 
ject of taste, sculpture, painting, architecture, 
gardening, husbandry, poetry, and music — 
come within the scope of the orator. 2. In a 
government, maintained by the arm of pow- 
er, there is no certainty of duration ; but one 
cemented by mutual kindness, all the best 
feelings of the heart are enlisted in its sup- 
port. 3. Who was the greater tyrant, Diony- 
sius or the bloody Mary ? 4. Beauty, unac 
companied by virtue, is like a flower, wit'i 
out perfume; its brilliancy may remain, but 
its siveetness is gone ; all that was precious 
in it, has evaporated. 5. We might as well 
throw oil on a burning- house to put out the 
fire, as to take ardent spirits into the stomach, 
to lessen the effects of a hot sun, or severe 
exercise. 6. The understanding must be 
elevated above the will, to control its desires; 
but it must be enlightened by the truth, that 
it may not err. 

The pathway— to the grave — may he the same, 
And the proud man — shall tread it, — and the toto, 
With his bowed head, shall bear him company. 
B«t the temper — of the invisible mind, 
The god-\ike— and undying intellect, 
These are distinctions, that will live in heaven. 
When timo,--is a forgotten circumstan.-€. 



\ 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



141 



301. Dtxamics CoarriNUBD. These con- 
trast* produce great effects, when properly 
exhibited, both in elocution and music. The 
rushing loud, indicates dread, alarm, learn- 
ing, &c. ; the soft, tlieir opposites : the tend- 
ency of indistinctness is, to remove objects to 
a distance, throwing them into the back- 
ground of the picture ; and of fullness, to 
bring them into the /ore-ground, making 
them very prominent; thus — the volyph- 
onist deceives, or imposes upon the ear, mak- 
ing his sounds correspond to those he would 
represent, near by, and at a distance. 

393. Forcible. Now storming fury rose, 
and clamor; such as heard in heaven, till 
now, was never: arms on armor, clashing, 
brayed horrible discord ; and the maddening 
wheels of brazen chariots raged. Full: high 
on a throne — of royal state, which far out- 
shone the wealth of Ormus, and of Inde ; 
or where the gorgeous East, with richest 
hand, showers on her kings barbaric, pearl 
and gold, Satan, exalted, sat. Strong: 
him, the Almighty Power hurled headlong, 
flaming from the ethereal skies with hideous 
ruin and combustion, down to bottomless 
perdition — there to dwell in adamantine 
chains, and penal fire, — who durst defy the 
Omnipotent to arms. 

So million?— are smit— with the glare of a toy: 
They grasp at a pebble— and call it— a gem, 
And tinsel— is gold, (if it glitters,) to them; 
Hence, dazzled with beauty, the lover is smit, 
The hero— with honor, the poet— with wit; 
The fop— with his feather, his snuff-box and cane, 
The nymph with her novel, the merchant with gain: 
Each finical priest, and polite pulpiteer, 
Who dazzles the fancy, and tickles the ear, 
With exquisite tropes, and musical style, 
As gay as a tulip — as polished as oil, 
Sell truth— at the shrine of polite eloquence, 
To please the soft taste, and allure the gay sense. 

Miscellaneous. 1. Fair sir, you spit on 
me — on Wednesday last ; you spumed me — 
such a day ; another time — you called me 
dog ; and for these courtesies, I'll lend thee 
thus much moneys. 2. I stand — in the pre- 
sence — of Almighty God, and of the world; 
and I declare to you, that if you lose this 
charter, never, no xever — will you get an- 
other. We are now, perhaps, arrived at the 
varting point. Here, even here, we stand — 
on the brink of fate ! Pause! for heavex's 
sake, pause. 3. Can you raise the dead? 
Pursue and overtake the wings of time? And 
can you bring about again, the hours, the 
days, the YEARS, that made me happy? 
4. Eut grant — that others can, with equal 
glory, look down on pleasure, and the bait of 
sense, where — shall we find a man, that bears 
afflictions, great and majestic in his ills, like 
Cato? 
Oh then, how blind— to all that truth requires, 
Whs tkink ixfreedom, where apart — aspire. 



Maxims, 1. Al' is soon realy ii. ar, orderly 
house. 2. Bacchus 1 as crowned more than Nep- 
tune. 3. Despair— has ruined some, hut presump- 
tion—multitudes. 4. Flattery— siis in the parlor, 
while plain-dealing is kicked out of doors. 5. Hi 
is not drunk for nothing, who pays his reckoning; 
with hi* reason. C>. V t'ne world knew what passe i 
in my mind, what would it think of me. 7. Gi^e 
neither counsel nor salt, till you are asked for a. 8. 
Close not a letter— without reading it, nor drink 
| water— without seeing it. 9. A fool, and his money, 
are soon parted. 1 0. If few words— wi.'l not make 
you wise, many will not. 

Anecdote. Charity Sermon. Dean Svnft 
— was requested to preach a charity sermon; 
but was cautioned about having it too long: 
he replied, that they should have nothing to 
fear on thai score. He chose for his text 
these words—" He that hath pity on the poor, 
lendeth unto the Lord; and that which he 
hath given — will he pay him again." The 
Dean, after looking around, and repealing 
his text in a still more emphatic manner, 
added— "My beloved frien ds, you hear the 
terms of the loan; and now, if you like the 
security, — down with your dust" The re- 
suit was. as might be expected,— a very large 
col' eel ion. 

Precept, and Example. Example — 
works more cures than precept; for words, 
without practice, are but councils without ef- 
fect. When we do as we say, it is a confir- 
mation of the rule; but when our lives and 
doctrines do not agree, it looks as if the lesson 
were either too hard for us, or the advice not 
worth, following. If a priest — design to edify 
by his sermons, concerning the punishment 
of the other world, let him renounce his lust, 
pride, avarice, and contentiousness ; for who- 
ever would make another believe a danger, 
must first show that he is apprehensive of it 
himself. 

Varieties. 1. The first book read, and 
the last one laid aside, in the child's library, 
is the mother: every look, word, tone, and 
gesture, nay, even dress itself — makes an 
everlasting impression. 2. One who is con- 
scious of qualities, deserving of respect, and 
attention, is seldom solicitous about them; 
but a contemptible spirit — wishes to hide it- 
self from its own view, and that of others, by 
show, bluster and arrogant pretensions. 5. 
The blood of a coward, would stain the char- 
acter of an honorable man ; hence, when we 
chastise such wretches, we should do it with 
the utmost calmness of temper. 4. Cultivate 
the habit — of directing the mind, intently, to 
whatever is presented to it; this — is the foun- 
dation of a s ound intellectual character. 5. 
"We are too apt, when a jest is turned upon 
ourselves, to think that insufferable, in an- 
other, which we looked upon as very jtretty 
and facetious, when the humor was our ow?u 
Never purchase friendship by gifts. 



142 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



393. Worus — are paints, the voice — the 
brush, the mind — the painter,- but science, 
practice, genius, taste, judgment and emo- 
tion — are necessary — in order to paint well: 
and there is as much difference between a 
good and bad reader, as there is between a 
good painter and a mere dauber. What 
gives expression to painting'! Emphasis. 
We look upon some pictures and remark, 
" that is a strong outline ;" " a very express- 
ive countenance:" this is emphasis: again, 
Wf. look upon of tiers, and there is a softness, 
delicacy, and tenderness, that melts the soul, 
•s she contemplates them ; this is emotion. 

304. Throw the following lines on the 
canvas of your imagination; i. e. picture 
them out there. 

BEAUTY, WIT AXD GOLD. 

In her boiver — a loidoio dwelt; 

At h&rfeet — three suitors knelt : 

Each — adored the widow much, 

Each — essayed her heart to touch ; 

One — had uit, and one — had gold, 

And one — was cast in beauty's mould ; 

Guess — which was it — won the prize, 

Purse, or tongue, or handsome eyes? 

First, appeared the handsome man, 

Proudly peeping o'er her fan; 

Red his lips, and white his skin; 

Could such beauty — fail to win ? 

Then— stepped forth — the man of gold, 

Cash he counted, coin he told, 

Wealth — the burden of his tale; 

Could such golden projects fail? 

Then, the man of wit, and sense, 

Moved liar — with his eloquence ; 

Now, she heard him — with a sigh; 

JSJow — she blushed, she knew not why: 

Then, she smiled — lo hear him speak, 

Then, the tear — was on her cheek: 

Beauty, vanish! gold, depart ! 

Wit, has won the widow's heart. 
Ix Politeness, as in everything else, con- 
nected with the formation of character, we 
are too apt to begin on the outside, instead of 
the inside: instead of beginning with the 
heart, and trusting to that to form the man- 
ners, many begin with the manners, and 
leave the heart to chance and influences. 
The golden rule — contains the very life and 
tout of politeness : " Do unto others — as you 
would they should do unto you:' Unless 
children and youth are taught — by precept 
and example, to abhor what is selfish, and 
prefer another's pleasure and comfort to their 
own, their politeness will be entirely artifi- 
cial, and used only when interest and policy 
dictate. True politeness — is perfect freedom 
and ease, treating others — just as you love to 
be treated. Nature — is always graceful : af- 
fectation, with all her art, can never produce 
anything half so pleasing. The very perfec- 
1um of elegance — is to imitate nature ; how 
Huch better — to have the reality, than the 



imitation! Anxiety about the opinions i>* 
others — fetters the freedom of nature, and 
tends to awkwardness ; all would appear 
well, if they never tried to assume — what 
they do not possess. Every one is respectable 
and pleasing, so long as he or she, is perfectly 
natural and truthful, and speaks and acts 
from the impulses of an honest and affection- 
ate heart, without any anxiety as to what 
others think. 

Laconics. 1. Modesty — in your discourse, 
will give a lustre — to truth, — and excuse — to your 
errors. 2. Some — are silent, for want of matter, or 
assurance; others — are talkative, for want of 
seme. 3. To judge of men — by their actions, one 
would suppose that a great proportion was mad 
and that the world — was one immense wia^-hou-se. 
4. Prodigals — are rich, for a moment — economists, 
forever. 5. To do unto orfiers, as we would tln-y 
should do to us, is a golden maxim, that cannot be 
too deeply impressed on our minds. G. Continue 
to add a little — to what was originally a little, and 
you will make it a great deal. 7. The value — of 
sound, correct principles, early implanted in the 
human mind, is incalculable. 

Those who are talentless, themselves, are 
the first to talk about the conceit of others; 
for mediocrity — bears but one flower - 
ENVY. 

Anecdote. Too Hard. About one hun- 
dred years ago, Mahogany — was introduced 
in England as ballast for a ship, that sailed 
from the West Indies ; and one Dr. Gibbons 
wished some furniture made of it : but tlic 
workmen, finding it too hard for their tools, 
laid it aside. Another effort was made; but 
the cabinet-maker said it was too hard for hie 
tools. The Doctor told him, he must get 
stronger tools then : he did so, and his effort 
was crowned with success. Remember this, 
ye who think the subject of elocution, as here 
treated, too difficult: and if you cannot find 
a way, make one. Press on ! 

Varieties. 1 . A good reader may become 
a good speaker, singer, painter and sculptor ; 
for there is nothing in any of these arts, that 
may not be seen in true delivery. 2. Old 
Parr, who died at the advanced a<re of 152, 
gave this advice to his friends ; " Keep your 
head cool by temperance, your feet warm by 
exercise: irise early, and go early to bed ; 
and if you are inclined to grow fat, keep 
your eyes open, and your mouth shut" Are 
not these excellent life-pills? 3. As the lark 
— sings at the dawn of day, and the nightin- 
gale at even, so, should we show forth the 
loving kindness of the Lord — every morn- 
ing, and his faithfulness — every night. 4. 
Is not the science of salvation — the greater 
of all the sciences T 
Without a star, or angel — for their guide, 
Who worship God, shallow/ him : humble Lom, 
(And not proud Reason,) keeps the door of heaven 
Love — finds admission, where Science— fails. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



143 



395. Modulattox — signifies the accom- 
modation of the voice, (in its diversifications 
of all these principles,) to every variety and 
shade of thought and feeling. The upper 
pitches of voice, we know, are used in calling 
persons at a distance, for impassioned em- 
phasis of certain kinds, and for very earnest 
arguments ; the middle pitches — for general 
conversation, and easy familiar speaking, of 
* descriptive and didactic character ; and the 
lower ones, for cadences, and the exhibition 
of emphasis in grave and solemn reading and 
speaking. 

396. Who — can describe, who delineate — 
the cheering, the enlivening ray ? who — the 
looks of love? who — the soft benignant vi- 
brations of the benevolent eye. ? who — the 
twilight, the day of hope? who — the internal 
efforts of the mind, wrapt in gentleness and 
humility, to effect good, to diminish evil, and 
increase present and eternal happiness 1 who 
— all the secret impulses and powers, collect- 
ed in the aspect of the defender, or energy of 
truth? of the bold friend, or subtle foe — of 
wisdom? who — the poet's eye, in a fine 
phrenzy rolling, glancing from heaven — to 
earth, from earth— to heaven, while imagina- 
tion — bodies forth the form of things un- 
known. 

Notes. The pitch of the voice is exceedingly important in 
every branch of our subject, and particularly, in the higher parts ; 
and this — among the rest. You must not often raise your voice to 
the eighth note ; for it will be harsh and unpleasant to the ear, arid 
very apt to break: nor drop it to the first note; for then your ar- 
ticulation will be difficult and indistinct, and you cannot impart 
any life and spirit to your manner and matter; as there is little or 
■o compass below this pitch : both these extremes must be care- 
fall) avoided, 

Patrick Henry's Treason. When this 
worthy patriot, (who gave the first impulse to 
the ball of the revolution,) introduced his ce- 
lebrated resolution on the stamp act, in the 
Virginia House of Burgesses, in 1765, as he 
descanted on the tyranny of that obnoxious 
act, exclaimed — " Cesar— had Ins Brutus,- 
Charles the First , his Cromwell ; and George 
the Third" — " Treason .'" cried the speaker ; 
"treasim; treason; treason; 7 ' re-echoed 
from every part of the house. It was one of 
those trying moments, which are decisive of 
character ,- but Henry faltered not for an in- 
stant; and rising to a loftier attitude, and 
fixing on the speaker — an eye, flashing with 
fire, continued — "may profit — by these 
examples: if this be treason, make the most 
of it." 

The hills, 
Bock-ribb'd — and ancient as the sun ; the vales — 
Stretching in pensive quietness — between; 
The venerahle woods; rivers, that move 
In majesty, and the complaining broojes, [ail, 

That make the meadows green; and, pour'd round 
Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste; 
Are but the solemn decorations all — 
Of the great tomb of man. 



Maxims. 1. The follies of youtli— are foo3 in 
repentance— \n old age. -2. Truth—may languisi 
but it can never die. 3. When a vain man heSLi 
another praised he thinks himself injured. 4. An 
tiquity — is not tilways a mark of truth. 5. Thn 
trial is not fair — where affection is judge, b 
Business— IB the salt of life. 7. Dependence— is t 
poor trade. 8. He, who lives upon hope, has bu 
a slender diet. 9. Always taking out of the mea 
tub, and never putting in, soon comes to the but 
torn. 10. He, who thinks to deceive God, deceivw 
himself 

Anecdote. An ill thing. Xenopfuinus 
an old sage, was far from letting a false mo 
desty lead him into crime and indiscretio?i, 
when he was upbraided, and called timorous, 
because he would not venture his money al 
any of the games. "I confess," said ne, 
" that I am exceedingly timorous, for I dare 
not do an ill thing.' 

Education. It is the duty of the instruc- 
tors of youth to be patient with the dull, and 
steady with the froward, — to encourage the 
timid, afld repress the insolent, — fully to em- 
ploy the minds of their pupils, without over- 
burdening them, — to awaken their fear, 
without exciting their dislike, — to communi- 
cate the stores of knoivledge, according to the 
capacity of the learner, and to enforce obedi- 
ence by the strictness of discipline. Above 
all, it is their bounden duty, to be ever on the 
watch, and to check the first beginnings of 
vice. For, valuable as knowledge may be, 
virtue is infinitely more valuable; and worse 
than useless are these mental accomplish- 
ments, which are accompanied by depravity 
of heart. 

"Varieties. 1. Can. charcoal — paint fire; 
chalk — light, or colors — live and breathe? 
2. Tattlers — are among the most despicable 
of bad tilings; yet even they — have their use; 
for they serve to check the licentiousness — 
of the tongues of those, who, without the feai 
of being called to account, through the instru 
mentality of these babbling knaves, would 
run riot in backbiting and slander. 

'Tis the mind, that makes the body rich ; 
And, as the su?i — breaks the darkest cloud, 
So, honor — 'peareth — in the meanest habit. 
No: let the eagle — change his plume, 
The leaf— its hue, the flow'r — its bloom; 
But ties — around the heart were spun, 
That could not, would not, be undone. 
Oh, who — the exquisite delights c'an tell, 
The joy, which mutual confidence imparts? 
Or who — can paint the charm unspeakable, 
Which links, in tender bands, two faithful heart*? 

6. Many things — are easier felt, than told. 

7. It is no proof of a man's understanding, 
to be able to affirm — whatever he pleases; 
but, to be able to discern, that what is true, 
is true, and that what is false,is false — is tlw 
mark and character of intelligence. 

Nature— sells erwythmg for labor. 



144 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



397. MortVLATIOX CONTINUED. The 

fit nation of the public reader and speaker, 
calls for the employment of the most refined 
irt in the management of his voice: he 
snould address a whole assembly with as 
much apparent ease and pleasure to himself 
and audience, as tho' there were but a single 
person present. In addressing an auditor}', 
which meets for information, or amuse- 
ment, or both, the judicious speaker — will 
adopt his ordinary and most familiar voice ; 
to show that he rises without bias, or preju- 
dice, mat he wishes reason, not passion, should 
guide them all. He will endeavor to be 
heard by the most distant hearers, without 
offending the ear of the nearest one, by mak- 
ing all his tones audible, distinct and na- 
tural. 

Friendship! thou soft, propitious power, 

Sweet regent of the social hour, 

Sublime thy joys, nor understood, 

But by the virtuous, and the. good. 

Amfiition is, at a. distance, 
A goodly prospect, tempting to the view ; 
The height delights us. and the mountain-lop 
■ Looks beautiful, because 'tis near to heaven ; 
But we never think how sandy's the foundation;['\X. 
AVhat storms will batter, and what tempests shake 

O be a man ; and let proud reason — tread 

In triumph, on each rebel passion's head. 
At thirty, man suspects himself a fool ; 
Knoivs it at forty, and reforms his plan; 
At fifty, chides his infamous delay, 
Pushes his pruder.: purpose — to resolve, 
In all the magnanimity of thought, 
Resolves and re-iesolves — then, dies the same. 

398. Home tell us, that when commencing 
an address, the voice should be directed to 
those most distant; but this is evidently 
•wrong. At the beginning, the mind is natu- 
rally clear and serene, the passions unawa- 
ktned; if the speaker adopt this high pitch, 
how can it be elevated, afterwards, agreeably 
to those emotions and sentiments, which re- 
quire still higher pitches'! To strain the 
voice thus, destroys all solemnity, weight 
and dignity, and gives, to what one says, a 
squeaking effeminacy, unbecoming a manly 
and impressive speaker; it makes the voice 
harsh and unmusical, and also produces 
hoarseness. 

Anecdote. Speculation. A capitalist, 
and shrewd observer of men and things, be- 
ing asked, what he thought of the specula- 
tions now afloat, replied — " They are like a 
cold bath, — to derive any benefit from which, 
it is necessary to be very quick in, and very 
soon outH' 1 

Not to the ensanguin'd field of death alone 
Is valor limited : she sits — serene 
In the deliberate council; sagely scans 
The source of action; weighs, prevents, provides, 
And scorns to count her glories, from the feats 
Of brutal force alone. 



Maxims. 1. A bt)ad hat — does not alwayt 
cover a wise head. 2. Burn not your house — to 
frighten away the mice. 3. Prinking water, nei- 
ther makes a man sick, nor his wife a widow. 4 
Me has riches enough, who need neither borrow 
or fatter. 5. True wisdom — is to knoio what is 
best worth knowing, and to do what is best worth 
doing. 6. Many things appear too bad to keep, and 
too good to throw ait; ay. 7. Keep a thing seven 
years, and you will find use for it. 8. We cannot 
pluck thorns from another's bosom, without pla- 
cing roses in our own. 9. Better a half loaf than 
no bread. 10. Draw not thy bow before the arrow 
be fixed. 

Experience. By what strange fatality 
is it, that having examples before our eyes, we 
do not profit by them 7 Why is our experi- 
ence, with regard to the misfortunes of others, 
of so little use ? In a word, ichy is it, that 
we are to learn wisdom and prudence at our 
own expense ? Yet such is the fate of man ! 
Surrounded by misfortunes, we are supplied 
with means to escape them ; but, blinded by 
caprice, prejudice and pride, we neglect the 
proffered aid, and it is only by the tears we 
shed, in consequence of our own errors, that 
we learn to detest them. 

Varieties. 1. Give to all persons, whom 
you respect, (with whom you walk, or whom 
you may meet,) especially ladies, the wall 
side of the walk or street. 2. If we think 
our evil allowable, tho' we do it not, it is ap- 
propriated to us. 3. Why does the pendu- 
lum of a clock — continue to move .' Because 
of the uniform operation of gravitation. 
What is gravitation 1 4. Humility — is the 
child of wisdom : therefore, beware of self- 
conceit, and an unteachable disposition. 5. 
Psychology — is the science, that treats of the 
essence — and nature of the human soul, and 
of the mode — by which it flows into the ac- 
tions of the body. 6. The true way to store 
the memory is — to develop the affections. 
7. The only way to shun evils, or sins, is to 
fight against them. 8. Reading and obser- 
vation — are the food of the young intellect, 
and indispensable to it* growth. 9. Is it pos- 
sible, that Ae&'r/-friends will ever separate ? 
10. All effects are produced by life, and na- 
ture* 

Now vivid stars shine out, in brightening^?es, 
And boundless crther glows, till the fair moon 
Shows her broad visage — in the crimson'd east; 
Now, stooping, seems to kiss the passing cloud, 
Now, o'er the pure cerulean— rides sublime. 
Nature, great parent ! whose directing hand 
Rolls round the seasons — of the changing year, 
How mighty, how majestic, are thy works ! 
With what a. pleasant dread— they swell the sotU, 
ThaXsees, astonished, and astonish'd, sings! 
You toe, ye. winds, that now begin to blow, 
With boisl'rons sweep, I raise my voice to yo*. 
Where are your stores, you viewless beingi, mj, 
Where your aerial magazines — reserved 
Against the clay of temjrst perilous 7 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



145 



399, Strength of Voice. The voice 
is weak, or strong, in proportion to the less, 
or greater, number of organs and muscles, 
that are brought into action. If one uses 
only the upper part of the chest, bis voice 
will be weak : if he uses the whole body, 
as ne should do, (not in the most powerful 
manner, of course, on common occasions,) 
his voice will be strong. Hence, to strength- 
en a weak voice, the student must practice 
expelling the vowel sounds, using all the 
abdominal and dorsal nerves and muscles: 
in addition to which, he should read and re- 
cite when standing or sitting, and walking 
on a level plain, and up hill: success will 
be the result of faithful practice. 

So soft, so elegant, so/air, 
Sure, something more than human 's there. 
Upon my lute — there is one string 
Broken; the chords — were drawn too fas t: 
My heart— is like that string; it tried 
Too much, and snapt in twain at last. 
She toill, and she will not, she grants and she de- 
Consents, retracts, advances, and ihen flies, [nies; 
Mental fragrance — still will last, 
When our youthful charms are past. 
If little labor, little are our gains; 
Man's fortunes — are according to his pains. 

Delightful task — to rear the tender thought, 
To teach the young idea — how to shoot, 
To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, 
To breathe th' enliv'ning spirit, and to fix 
The generous purpose in the glowing breast. 

400. Demosthenes — had three particular 
defects ; first, weakness of the voice ; which 
he strengthened by declaiming on the sea- 
shore, amid the roar of waters ; which effort 
would tend directly to bring into use the 
lower parts of the body ; second, shortness 
of breath ; which he remedied by repeating 
his orations as he walked up hill ; which act 
serves to bring into use the appropriate or- 
gans, and fully inflate the lungs: and third, 
a thick, mumbling way of speaking; which 
he overcame by reading and reciting with 
pebbles in his mouth ; which required him 
to make a greater effort from below, and 
open his mouth wider. Examine yourself 
and act accordingly. 

Inconsistency. Montaigue — condemns 
cruelty, as the most odious of all vices ; yet 
he confesses, that Minting — was his favorite 
diversion. He acknowledges the inconsist- 
ency of man'3 conduct, but he does not as- 
cribe it to the right cause; which is the pre- 
dominance, at the time, of those associations 
it awakens, conducing to pleasure. If he 
had not been accustomed to it, the associa- 
tions of hunting, would have been painful, 
and his aversion to cruelty in the abstract, 
would have been realized in the concrete and 
varticulars. 

Then, ptlgnm. turn, thy cares forego 
All earth-born cares — are wrong; 
Man— wants but little— here below, 
Nor wants that little — long. 
BJtONSON. 10 



Proverbs. 1. To subdue a trifl tog err >r. do 

not incur a greater. 2. Anger and haste — l.iudel 
good counsel. 3. All complain of want of memory, 
but none of want of judgment. 4. Gord men are 
a public good, and bad men— a public calamity 
5. Human laws reach not our thoughts. 6. Ru- 
lers — have no power over souls. 7. No one ever 
suffered — by not speaking ill of others. 8. Silly 
people are generally pleased witli silly things. 9 
Zeal, without knoivledge, is religious wildfire. 10 
The example of a good man — is visible philos- 
ophy. 

Anecdote. Clients' Bones. A certain 
mechanic, having occasion to boil some cat- 
tle's feet, emptied the bones near the court 
house. A lawyer, observing them, inquired 
of a bystander, what they were. " I believe 
they are clients'' bones," replied the wit, " as 
they appear to be well picked.' 1 '' 

The Deceiver. A. Base Character. Must 
not that man be abandoned, even to all man- 
ner of humanity, who can deceive a woman 
with appearances of affection and kindness, 
for 'no other end, but to torment her with 
more ease and authority ? Is anything more 
unlike a gentleman, than, when his honor is 
engaged for the performing his promises, 
because nothing but that can oblige him to 
it, to become afterwards false to his word, 
and be alone, the occasion of misery to one, 
whose happiness he but lately pretended wag 
dearer to him than his own ? Ought such a 
one to be trusted in his common affairs '( or 
treated, but as one whose honesty — consisted 
only in his capacity of being otherwise. 

Varieties. 1. Is it strange, that beauti- 
ful flowers should wither and die ? 2. Trust 
thyself; every heart vibrates to that iron 
string. 3. Our American character is mark- 
ed by a more than average delight — in ac- 
curate perception; which is shown by the 
currency of the by-woxA — " no mistake.' 1 ' 1 4. 
In sicktiess, and languor, give us a strain 
of poetry, or a profound sentence, and we are 
refreshed; when the great Herder was dy- 
ing, he said to his friends, who were weep- 
ing around him: "Give me some great 
thought." Blessed are they, who minister to 
the cry of the soul. 5. The christia?i sees, 
in all that befalls the human race, whether 
it be good or evil, only the manifestations 
of Divine Love, as exercised in training and 
preparing souls, for the approach of that 
perfection, which they are one day destined 
to realize. 6. For every friend, that we 
lose for truth, God gives us a better one. 
The love of praise, howe'er concealed by art, 
Reigns, more or less, and glows' in every heart: 
The proud — to gain it — toils on toils endure, 
The modest — shun it, but to make it sure; 
O'er globes and sceptres, now on thrones it swell*, 
Now trims the midnight lamp — in college cells. 
'Tis fori/, whig; it plots, prays, preaches, pleads. 
Harangues in senates, 6peaks in masquerotd<B 
It aids the dancer's heel, the writer's head. 
And heaps the plain — with mountains of the dead, 
Nor ends with life; t ut nods — in sable plumet % 
Adorns our hearse, a id flatters — on our tcmbs. 



146 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



401. Trahsitiok— means, in speech, the 
changes of pitch, from one note to another ; 
as from the eighth to the third: or from the 
sixth to the first ,■ and vice versa; to corres- 
pond in variety and character, to the senti- 
ment and emotion. In singing, it means 
changing the place of the key-note, so as to 
keep the tune within the scale of twenty -two 
degrees. In transition — the pitches of voice 
are not only changed, but its qualities, agreea- 
bly to the nature and object of the composi- 
tion ; however, there must never be any sac- 
rifice of other principles — all the proportions 
must be preserved. Example : 

An hour passed on ; the Turk awoke, 
That (6) bright dream— (3) was his last. 
He (5) woke — to hear his sentri/s shriek, [Greekl" 
(8) "To arms ! they(6)come/ the (8) Greek! the (10) 
He woke— to die — midst (3) flame, and (5) smoke, 
And (G) shout, and (3) groan, and sabre stroke, 
And death-shots falling thick z.\\A fast 
As lightnings — from the mou7ito<n-cloud ; 
And heard with voice as trumpet loud, 
Bozzarris— cheer his band. 

(8) Strike ! till the last armed foe expires ; 

(9) Strike ! for your (6) altars and your (8) fires , 

(10) Strike ! for the green graves of your sires, 
(8) God— and your native land. 

402. To succeed in these higlier parts of 
oratory, one must throw himself into the con- 
dition, and shape, he wishes to fill, or be, and 
bring the body into perfect subjection : by as- 
suming the appropriate language of action 
and earnestness, he may work himself into 
any frame of mind, that the subject demands. 
He must be sure to keep up the fife, spirit, 
and energy of the composition ; and let there 
be a light and glow in his style. He must 
also cultivate a bold and determined manner ; 
for if he takes no special interest in what he 
is reading or speaking, he may rest assured 
others will not. 

I,n '. from the regions of the north, 
The reddening storm of battle pours, 

(5) Rolls along the trembling earth, 

(6) Fastens on the Olynthian towers ; [brave ? 

(8) Where rests the sword? Where sleep the 

(9) Awake ' '8 X Ceeropia's ally save 
(6) From the fury of the blast; 

(8) Burst the storm — on PhocVs walls ; 

(10) .Rise, or Greece (8) forever falls : 

(12) Up I or (10) freedom— breathes ber (6) last. 

(4) The jarring states — obsequious now, 

(5) View ihe patriot's hand on high ; 
(2) Thunder — gathering on his brow, 
(G) Lightning — flashing from his eye: — 

j8) Grasp the shield— and draw the (6) sword. 

(9) Lead us to (8) Philippic lord ; 

<6} Let is (10) conquer him,— (5) or (2) die. 

THE BIBLE. 

Behold the Book, whose leaves display 
Jesus, the life, the truth, the way ; 
Read it with diligence and prayer, 
&tar-h it, and yo*i shall find him there. 



Proverbs. 1. Be just to others, thai you mnf 
be just to yourself. 2. The mind of the utter— 
nevei knows what it wishes for. 3. Every rost 
has its thorn. 4. There is nothing good, that 
may not he converted to evil purposes. 5. Few 
persons are aware— of the importance of rigid 
economy. G. Do not suffer yourself to be deceived 
—by outward appearances. 7. Never take ad- 
vantage of another man's ignorance. 8. The 
word, that has gone forth— can never be recalled. 

9. A bird in the hand, is worth two in the iush. 

10. That load appears light, which is borne with 
cheerfulness. 11. Virtu* is the forerunner o» 
happiness. 12. Foresight— is ihe eje of prudence. 

Anecdote. Obey Orders. A brave vete- 
ran officer, reconnoitering a battery, which 
was considered impregnable, and which it 
was necessary to storm, laconically answered 
the engineers, who were endeavoring to dis- 
suade him from the attempt; — " Gentlemen, 
you may think and say what you please: 
all I know, is, — that the American flag— 
must be hoisted on the ramparts to-morrow 
morning ; for I have the order in my pocket." 

Effects of Perseverance. All the per- 
formances of human art, at which we look 
with praise or wonder, are instances of the 
resistless force of perseverance ; it is by this 
that the quarry becomes a pyramid, and that 
distant countries are united with canals and 
rail-roads. If a man was to compare the ef- 
fect of a single stroke of a. pickaxe, or of one 
impression of the spade, with the general de- 
sign and last result, he would be overwhelm 
ed by the sense of their disproportion ; yet 
those petty operations, incessantly continued, 
in time, surmount the greatest difficulties, and 
mountains are levelled, and oceans bounded 
by the slender force of human beings. 

Varieties. 1. Can Omnipotence do things 
incompatible axid. contradictory ? 2. St. Au- 
gustine described the nature of God, as a cir- 
cle, whose centre was everywhere, and his 
circumference nowhere. 3. The walls of rude 
minds are scrawled all over with facts and 
with thoughts ; then shall one bring a lan- 
tern, and read the inscriptions 1 4. ". My chil- 
dren," said an old man to his boys, scared by 
a figure in the dark entry, "you will never 
see anything worse than yourselves." 5. 
Some one says, " There are no prodigies, but 
the first death, and the first night, that deserve 
astonishment and sadness/" 6. When we 
have broken our god of Tradition, and ceas- 
ed from our god of Persuasion, then, God 
may fire our hearts, with his own presence ; 
but not before. 7. No love can be bound by 
oath, or covenant, to secure it against a higha 
love. 

God — scatters love— on every tide, 

Freely— among his children all ,• 

And always— hearts are open wide, 

Wherein some grains may fall. 
To know and lo< e God, is everything. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



I 47 



403. Male and Female Voices. The 
roices of men — are generally an octave lower 
than those of women; or, comparatively, 
men's voices are like the bass viol, and wo- 
men's voices like the violin. The voice is 
made grace, that is, to run on lower pitches, 
by elongating, and enlarging the vocal 
chords; and it is made acute, that is, to run 
on higher pitches, by shortening and dimin- 
ishing them ; in connection, however, with 
the size of the chest, which always has its 
influence. Few are aware of the extent to 
which the voice is capable of being cultivat- 
ed; and hence, we should beware of setting 
Umits to it. 

If every one's internal care 

Were written on his brow, 
How many would our pity share 

Who raise our envy now ! 
The fatal secret, when revealed, 

Of every aching breast, 
Would fully prove, that while concealed, 
Their lot appears the best. 
How calm, how beautiful, comes on 
The stilly hours, when storms are gone; 
When warring winds have died away, 
And clouds, beneath the glancing ray, 
Melt off, and leave the land and sea, 
Sleeping— in bright tranquillity. 
404. To acquire the ability to change, at 
will, your pitch of voice, so as to be able 
*o adapt the manner to the matter, prac- 
tice throwing the voice on different pitches, 
varying from one to Jive, five to eight, 
eight to one, and in other ways ; also, recite 
such pieces as have a number and variety of 
speakers, as found in dialogues ; and imitate 
the voice and manner of each, as far as pos- 
sible. But remember, no one can accomplish 
much, without committing the examples to 
memory; thus, after long practice in this 
way, you may make the book talk and speak. 
All developments are from within — out, not 
from vnthout — in. 

Miscellaneous. 1. Two things are in- 
cumbent on the historian ; to avoid stating 
what is false, and fully and fairly to place be- 
fore us the truth. 2. One of the greatest blun- 
ders an orator can commit is, to deviate into 
abstruse expressions, and out of the beaten 
track. 3. Man — was created for a state of 
order, and he was in order, till he fell, or be- 
came depraved ; or, what is the same thing, 
disordered — i. e. the reverse of order. 4. Man 
is in order, when he acts from supreme love 
to the Lord, and charity towards his neigh- 
bor, in obedience to the Divine Will ; but he 
is depraved, and disordered, in the degree he 
acts from the love of self, and the love of the 
world. 5. No man is compelled to evil ; his 
tonsent only makes it his. 

A diamond, 
Tho' set ia horn, is still a diamonu, 
And sparkles— as .n purest gold. 



Maxims. 1. Bad counsel confounds the ad- 
viser. 2. No one can do wrong, without suffenn* 
wrong. 3. He is greatest, who is most useful, i. 
Love — and you shall be loved. 5 A great man — 
is willing to be little. 6. Blame — is safer than 
praise. 7. All the devils respect virtue. 8. A 
sincere word was never lost. 9. Curses — always 
recoil upon the head of him. who imprecates them. 
10. God — will not make himself manifest to cow- 
ards. 11. The love of society is natural. 

Anecdote. An old alderman, after having 
lived for fifty years on the fat of the land, and 
losing his great toe with a mortification, in- 
sisted, to his dying day, that he owed it to two 
grapes, which he ate one day, after dinner ; 
he said, he felt them he cold at his stomach 
the moment they were eaten. 

Education. The time, which we usually 
bestow on the instruction of our children — in 
principles, the reasons of which they do not 
understand, is worse than lost ; it is teaching 
them to resign their faculties to authority; it 
is improving their me?nories, instead of their 
understandings ; it is giving them credulity 
instead of knoiuledge, and it is preparing 
them for any kind of slavery which can be 
imposed on them. Whereas, if we assisted 
them in making experiments on themselves, 
induced them to attend to the consequence of 
every action, to adjust their little deviations, 
and fairly and freely to exercise their power?, 
they would collect facts which nothing could 
controvert. These facts they would deposit 
in their memories, as secure and eternal trea- 
sures ; they would be materials for reflection, 
and, in time, be formed into principles of con- 
duct, which no circumstances or temptations 
could remove. This would be a method of 
forming a man, who would answer the end 
of his being, and make himself and others 
happy. 

Varieties. 1. Did not the Greek philoso- 
phy — corrupt the simplicity of the christian 
religion ? 2. There are two sorts of popular 
corruption ; one, when the people do not ob- 
serve the laws; the other, when they are 
corrupted by the laws. 3. Cesar — added the 
punishment of confiscation, for this reason ,• 
lest the rich, by preserving their estates, should 
become bolder in the perpetration of crime. 
4. No localities can bound the dominion, or 
the superiority of man. 5. What constitutes 
a church? Divine goodness and truth, con- 
joined by love, and exemplified in the life. 
6. Madame de Stael's idea, that architecture 
— is like frozen music, must have been sug- 
gested on a cold day. 7. We are often niada 
to feel, that there is another youth and age 
than that which is measured from tlie year of 
our natural birth; some thoughts always 
find us young, and keep us so; such a 
thought is the love of the Universal and Eter- 
nal Beauty. 



148 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



*o,i. St* i >; — comprehends all the princi- 
ples of elocution, and denotes the maimer in 
which different kinds of composition should 
be Dead, or spoken; of course., there are as 
many kinds of style, as there are of compo- 
sition ; and unless a person has command of 
body and mind, lie cannot harmonize his 
7nanner and matter. If in writing, style — 
means proper words, in proper places; hi 
speaking, it must signify, proper sounds in 
proper places. Ex. 
What is wit? a meteor, bright and rare, 
Tlrt comes and goes, we know not whence, or where; 
A brilliant nothing — out of something wrought, 
A mental vacuum — by condensing thought. 

O the eye's eloquence, 
(Tscm-born with thought.) outstrips the tardy to/ce; 
Far swifter — than the nimble lightning's flash, 
The sluggish thunder-peal, that follows it. 
True courage — but from opposition grows, 
And what are fifty — what — a thousand slaves, 
Matched to th» sinew— of a single arm, 
That strikes for liberty? 

406. What causeth the earth to bring forth 
and yield her increase ? Is it not the light 
and heat of the sun, that unlocks her native 
energies and gives them their power 7 In an 
analogous manner should the light of the 
thought, and the heat of its accompanying 
affection, act upon the mind, which will com- 
municate the influence received to the whole 
body, and the body to the voice and actions. 
This is what is meant by imbibing the au- 
thor's feelings, and bringing before you all 
the circumstances, and plunging amid the 
living scenes, and feeling that whatever you 
describe, is actually present, and passing be- 
fore your mind. 

407. Lyceums and Debating societies, are 
admirable associations for the improvement 
of mind, and cultivation of talent, for pub- 
lic or private speaking. Franklin and Ro- 
ger Sherman, (the one a printer, and the oth- 
er a shoe-maker,) rose from obscurity to great 
eminence, and usefulness, by their own ef- 
forts: so may ive, by using the proper 
means. It was in a debating society, that 
Lord Brougham first displayed his superior 
talents and unrivaled eloquence ; and there, 
also, Henry Clay, the greatest American 
orator, commenced his brilliant career. A 
word to those who would be wise is enough. 

Anecdote. Ail appropriate Sign. A man 
who had established a tippling-house, being 
about to erect his sign, requested his neigh- 
bor's advice — what inscription to put upon 
it. His friend replied, " I advise you to write 
on it — Drunkards and Beggars made here." 
Jfeno- 1 — a sacred tie, the law of kings, 
Thi nnble mind's — distinguishing perfection, 
Thot aids and strengthens virtue, when it meets her, 
And imitates her actions, where she is not: 
ll ought not to be sp -Tied with 



Proverbs. 1. A good word for a bad enc— - 1« 
worth much, and costs little. '2. He, who know* 
not when to be silent, knows not when to speak. 
:i. Oppression— causes rebellion. 4. Where con- 
tent is. there is a feast. 5. The drunkard continu- 
ally assaults his own life. 6. Show me a liar, 
and I will show you a thief. 7. That which helpi 
one man, may hinder another. 8. A sjood educa- 
tion is the foundation of happinev. 9. Most follies 
owe their origin to self-love. 10. No tice — takes so 
deep a root as prejudice. 1 1 . Inform yourself, and 
instruct others. 12. Truth — i'a the only bond of 
friendship. 

Learning. We have been often told, that 
" a little learning is a dangerous thing,'' and 
we may be just as weft assured, that a little 
bread is not the safest of all things ; it would 
be far better to have plenty of both : but the 
sophism — of those who use this argument, is, 
that they represent the cho ; ce between little 
and much ; whereas our election must be 
made between little — and none at all ; if the 
choice is to be — between a small portion of 
information, or of food, and cbsolute igno- 
rance, or starvation, common suise gives its' 
decision in the homely proverb — ;< half a. loat 
is better than no bread." 

Varieties. 1. The best and surest courst 
is — never to have recourse to deception, but 
prove ourselves, in every circumstance of life, 
equally upright and sincere. 2. T.'v most 
consummate hypocrite — cannot, at ad times, 
conceal the workings of his mind. 3. When 
we employ money — to good purposes, it is a 
great blessing; but when we use it for ev*i 
and wicked ends, or become so devoted to it 
as to endeavor to acquire it by dishonest 
means, it is a great curse. 4. None are sfc 
fond of secrets, as those who do not mean to 
keep them: such persons covet them, as 
spendthrifts do mony, for the purpose of cir 
culation. 5. Burke — called the French rev- 
olutionists, "the ablest architects of ruin, 
that the world ever saw." 6. Trifles — always 
require exuberance of ornament ; the build* 
ing that has no strength, can be valued only 
for the grace of its decorations. 7. We can- 
not part with our heart-p'iends : we cannot 
let our angels go. 

Nor fame I slight, nor for her favors call ; 

She comes unlootfd for, if she comes at ail. 

But, if the purchase cost so dear a price, 

As sooth \ng folly, or exalting vice; 

And if the muse — must flatter lawless sway, 

And follow stil! where fortune leads the way; 

Or, if no basis — bear my rising name, 

But the fall'n ruins of another's fame ; 

Then, teach me, heaven, to scorn the guilty bay* f 

Drive from my breast that wretched lust ofprmiis- 

VnblemisK'd let me Vive, or die — unknown: 

O, grant rae honest fame, or grant me. none. 

Tis sweet— to he** 
The song and oar — of Adrians gondohci 
(By distance mellowed.) o'er tho waters sweep. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



149 



408. Public speakers ought to live longer, 
and enjoy better health, than other persons; 
and if they conform to the principles here 
taught, and the laws of life and health gener- 
ally, this will be the result. Pulmonary dis- 
eases may be thrown off by these exercises ; 
the author being a living witness, having been 
given over at three different times with con- 
sumption. The celebrated Cuvier and Dr. 
Brown, the metaphysician, and many others 
that might be mentioned, are also witnesses 
of this truth. One reason is, that natural 
speaking induces one to use a very large 
quantity of air, whereby the capacity of the 
Jungs is much enlarged, the quantity of air 
increased, and the blood more perfectly puri- 
fied ; the use of the whole body insures a free 
circulation, and, of course, contributes to 
universal health. 

Think'st thou — there are no serpents in the world, 
But those, which slide along the grassy sod, 
And sting the luckless fool, that presses them? 
There are, who, in the path of social life, 
Do bask their spotted skins, in fortune's sun, 
And sting the soul, aye, till its healthful frame 
Is changed to secret, festering, sore disease; 
So deadly— is its wound. 
The brave, 'tis sure, do never shun the light ; 
Just are their thoughts, and open are their tempers; 
Still are they found — in the fair face of day, 
And heaven, and men — are judges of their actions. 

409. Diseases of the Throat — are con- 
nected, particularly, with those parts of the 
body, which are involved in breathing, and 
relate to the understanding, or reasoning fa- 
culties of the mind: thus, thinking and 
breathing are inseparably connected toge- 
ther ; as are feeling and acting ; hence, the 
predominance of thought, in the exercise of 
the voice, or in any kind of action, and zeal 
without knoioledge, tend directly to such per- 
versions of mind and body, as induce, not only 
diseases of the throat, but even pulmonary 
diseases : if, then, we will to be free, in any re- 
spect, we must return to truth and nature ; for 
they will guide the obedient in the right way. 

Miscellaneous. 1. Whatever one pos- 
sesses, becomes doubly valuable, by having 
the happiness of dividing it with a friend. 
2. He who loves riches more than his friend, 
does not deserve to be loved. 3. He who 
would pass the latter part of his life with 
lumor, and usefulness, must, when he is 
vnung, consider that he shall one day be old; 
nnd when he is old, remember that he has 
once been young. 4. The rolling planets, 
and the glorious sun. Still kee^ that order, 
which they first begun ; But wretched man, 
alone, has gone asiray, swerved from his 
God, and walks another way. 5. The old — 
live in the past, as the young do — in the fu- 
ture. 6. Fix upon a high standard of char- 
acter: to bethought well of— is not sufficient: 



the point you are to aim at, is, the greatest 
possible degree of usefulness. 7. He who 
only aims at little, will accomplish but little. 

Anecdote. A silly, but very pretty wo- 
man, complained to the celebrated and beau- 
tiful Sophia Arnold, of the number of her 
admirers, and wished to know how she 
should get rid of them. " Oh, my dear," 
(was the satiric reply,) " it is very easy for 
you to do it: you have only to speak." 

Proverbs. 1. Those, who possess any red 
excellence, think and say, the lead about it. 2 
The active only, have the true relish of life. 3. 
Many there are, who are everything by turns, and 
nothing — long. 4. To treat trifles — as matters of 
importance, is to show our own unimportance. 5. 
Grief, cherished unseen, is genuine; while that, 
which has witnesses, may be affected. 6. Error — 
does not so often arise from our ignorance of the 
truth, as an unwillingness to receive it. 7. Some — 
mistake the love — for the practice of virtue, and are 
not so much good themselves, as they are the 
friends of goodness. 8. To love any one, and not 
do him good, when there is ability and opportu- 
nity, is a contradiction. 9. Pity — will always be 
his portion in adversity, who acted with kindness 
in prosperity. 10. The best mode of proving any 
science, is by exhibiting it. 

A Good Example. Mr. Clay, in a de- 
bate upon the Loan Bill, remarked, that, for 
twenty or thirty years, neither he nor his 
wife, had owed any man a dollar. Both of 
them, many years gone by, had come to the 
conclusion, that the best principle of economy 
was this, — " never to go in debt. To indulge 
your wants when you were able to do so, and 
to repress them when you are not able to in- 
dulge them." The example is not only an 
excellent one for itself, but comes from a high 
source. To repress a want — is one of the 
wisest, safest, and most necessary principles 
of political economy. It prevents, not only 
the dangerous practice of living beyond our 
means, but encourages the safe precedent of 
living within them. If all who could, would 
live within their means, the world would be 
mucli happier and much better than it is. 
Henry Clay and his noble housewife — give 
us an example worthy of all imitation. 

Varieties. 1 . Is pride — a mark of talent? 
2. Byron says, of Jack Bunting, " He knew 
not what to do, and so he swore :" so we may 
say of many a one's preposterous use of books 
— He knew not what to do, and so ho read. 
Wifs — a feather — Pope nas sai^ 

And ladits — do not doubt it : 
For those, who've Imh. — within the head, 
Display the most— about it. 

They sin, who tell us love can die; 

Its holy flame forever du. ^eth ; 

From heaven it came, to heaven retmneth. 
Forgiveness — to the injured does belong ; 
But they ne'er pardon, who have done the wrcng 
Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, 
Thou shalt not escape calumny. 
k2 



150 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



41 /; Dkljveht — addresses itself to the 
mind .irough two mediums, the eye and the 
ear: hence, it naturally divides itself into 
two parts, voice and gesture; both of which 
must be sedulously cultivated, under the 
*£%ridance of proper feeling, and correct 
thought. That style is the best, which is the 
most transparent ; hence the grand aim of 
the elocutionist should be — perfect transpa- 
rency ; and when this part is attained, he 
will be listened to with pleasure, be perfectly 
understood, and do justice to his subject, 
his powers, and his audience. 

411. Young Gentlemen, — (said Wil- 
liam Wirt,) you do not, I hope, expect from 
me, an oration for display. At my time of 
life, and worn down, as I am, by the toils of 
a laborious profession, you can no longer 
look for the spirit and buoyancy of youth. 
Spiiijjg — is the season for flowers ; but I — am 
in the autumn of life, and you will, I hope, 
accept from me, the fruits of my experi- 
ence, in lieu of the more showy, but less 
substantial blossoms of Spuing. I could 
not have been tempted hither, for the pue- 
rile purpose of display. My visit has a 
much graver motive and object. It is the 
hope of making some suggestions, that may 
be serviceable in the journey of life, that is 
before you ; of calling into action some dor- 
mant energy ; of pointing your exertions to 
some attainable end of practical utility ; in 
short, the hope of contributing, in some 
small degree, towards making you happier 
in yourselves, and more useful to your 
country. 

412. The conversational — must be deliv- 
ered in the most natural, easy, familiar, dis- 
tinct, and agreeable manner; the narrative 
and didactive, with a clear and distinct artic- 
ulation, correct emphasis, proper inflections, 
and appropriate modulations ; because, it is 
not so much your object to excite the affec- 
tions, as to inform the understanding : the 
argumentative, and reasoning, demand great 
deliberation, slowness, distinctness, frequent 
pauses, candor, strong emphasis and occa- 
sional vehemence. No one can become a 
good reader and speaker, without much prac- 
tice and many failures. 

Pioneers. The " eccentric" man — is gen- 
erally the -pioneer of mankind, cutting his 
way the first — into the gloomy depths of un- 
ex plored science, Gv^coming difficulties, that 
would check meaner spirits, and then — hold- 
ing up the light of his knowledge — to guide 
thousands, who, but for him, would be wan- 
dering about in all the uncertainty of igno- 
rance, or be held in „ne fetters of some self- 
ish policy, which they had not, of tlizmselves 
—the energy to throw off. 

Ti« not in folly — not to scorn a fool, 

And scar?e in liuman wisdom — to do more. 



Proverbs. 1. Constnnt occupation — *hut» 
out temptation. 2. A flatterer — is a most danger 
ous enemy. 3. Unless we aim at perfection, wa 
shall never attain it. 4. They who love the long- 
est, love the best. 5. Pleasure — is not the rule for 
rest, but for health. 6. The .^resident is but the 
head-servant of the people. 7. Knowledge — is not 
truly ours, till we have given it away. 8. Our 
debts, and our sins, are generally greater than we 
suppose. 9. Some folks — are like snakes in the 
grass. 10. He — injuries the good, who spares the 
bad. 11. Beauty will neither feed ot clothe u*. 
12. Woman's work is never done. 

Anecdote. What for? After the close 
of the Revolutionary war, the king of Great 
Britain — ordered a thanksgiving to be kept 
throughout the kingdom. A minister of the 
gospel inquired of him, " For what are we 
to give thanks ? that your majesty has lost 
thirteen of your best provinces ?" The king 
answered, " No." " Is it then, that your ma- 
jesty has lost one hundred thousand lives of 
your best subjects?" "No, no!" said the 
king. " Is it then, that we have expended, and 
lost, a hundred millions of money, and for 
the defeat and tarnishing of your majesty's 
arms?" "No such thing," — said the king 
pleasant] y. " What then, is the object of the 
thanksgiving '.'" " Oh, give thanks that it is 
no worse." 

Varieties. 1. Who does not see, in Ce- 
sar's Commentaries, the radical elements of' 
the present French character 7 2. " A man," 
says Oliver Cromwell, " never rises so high, 
as when he knows not whither he is going." 
3. The virtue, that vain persons affect to des* 
pise, might have saved-ihem ; while the beau* 
ty, they so highly prized, is the cause of their 
ruin. 4. He, who flatters, without design- 
ing to benefit by it, is a fool ; and whoever 
encourages that flattery, that has sense 
enough to see through, is a vain coxcomb. 5. 
The business of the teacher — is not so much 
to communicate knowledge to the pupil, as 
to set him to thinking, and show him how 
to educate himself ; that is, he must rather 
teach him the way to the fountain, than car- 
ry him to the water. 6. Many buy cheap, 
and sell dear ; i. e. make as good bargains as 
they can; which is a trial of skill, between 
two knaves, to see which shall overreach the 
other ; but honest men set their price and 
adhere to it. 7. If you put a chain round 
the neck of a slave, the other end fastens it 
self around your own. 
Would you then learn to dissipate the band 

Of these huge threatening difficulties dire, 
That, in the weak man's way — like lions stand, 

His soul appal, and damp his r\s'mg fire ? 

Resolve; resolve, and to be men aspiie. 
Exert that noblest privilege, alone. 

Mere to mankind indulged: control desire; 
Let godlike reason, from her sovereign throne, 
Speak the commanding word — Twill, ar.d it is don* 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



15l 



413. Earnestness of Manner — is of j 
vital importance in sustaining a transparent 
style ; and this must be imbibed internally, 
and felt with all the truth and certainty of 
nature. By proper exercises on these prin- j 
ciples, a person may acquire the power of \ 
passing, at will, from grave to gay, and from | 
lively to severe, without confounding one 
with the other: there are times, however, 
when they may be united ; as in the humor- 
ous and pathetic, together. 

Breathes there a man with soul so dead, 
Who never, to himself hath said, 
** This — is my own, my native land 1" 
Whose heart— hath ne'er within him burned, 
As home— his footsteps he hath turned, 
From wandering on & foreign strand 1 
If such there breathe, go mark him well : 
For him, no minstrel raptures swell ; 
High tho' his titles, powers, or pelf, 
The wretch— concentred all in self, 
Living — shall forfeit fair renown, 
And, doubly dying, shall go down 
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, 
UnwevCd, unhonored, and unsung. 

414. The following are the terms usually 
applied to style, in writing, and also in speak- 
ing ; each of which has its distinctive charac- 
teristics ; though all of them have something 
in common. Bombastic, dry, elegant, epis- 
tolary, floiuing, harsh, laconic, lofty, loose, 
terse, tumid, verbose. There are also styles 
of occasion, time, place, &c: such as the 
etyle of the bar, of the legislature, and of the 

%pulpit ; also the dramatic style, comedy, 
{high and low,) farce and tragedy. 

niiterate and selfish people, are often op- 
posed to persons traveling through the coun- 
try, to lecture on any subject whatever ; and 
especially, on such as the grumblers are ig- 
norant of. But are not books and newspa- 
pers, itinerants too 1 In olden time, the wor- 
shipers of the goddess Diana, were violently 
pposed to the Apostles ; because, thro' their 
preaching of the cross, their craft was in 
danger. The liberally educated, and those 
who are in favor of a universal spread of 
knowledge, are ready to bid them "God 
speed," if they and their subject are praise- 
ivorthy. 

Anecdote. A Kingly Dinner in Nature , s 
Palace. Cyrus, king of Persia, was to dine 
with one of his friends ; and, on being asked 
to name the place, and the viands with which 
he would have his tabic spread, he replied, 
" Prepare the banquet at the side of the river, 
and let one loaf of bread be the only dish." 
Bright, as the pillar, rose at Heaven's command: 
When Israel— marched along the desert land, 
Blazed through the night— on lonely wilds afar, 
And told the path, — a never-setting star ; 
Ho, heavenly Genius, in thy course divine, 
Hope — id thy star, her light — is ever thine. 



Proverbs. 1. People generally lOvg truth 
more than goodness ; knowledge more than luli-* 
ness. 2. Never magnanimity — fell to the ground. 
3. He, who would gather immortal palms, must 
not he hindered by the name of goodness, but 
must explore — if it be goodness. 4. JVo author 
was ever written down, by any but himself, o 
Better be a nettle in the side of your friend, than 
his echo. 6. Surmise is the gossamer, that malice 
blows on fair regulation; the corroding dew, that 
destroys the choicest blossoms. 7. A genera 
prostration of morals — must be the inevitable re- 
sult of the diffusion of bad principles. 8. To 
know — is one thing ; and to do — is another. 9. 
Candor — lends an open ear to all men. 10. Art 
— is never so beautiful, as when it reflects the 
philosophy of religion and of man. 

We cannot honor our country — with too 
deep a reverence ; we cannot love her — with 
an affection too pure and fervent ; we can- 
not serve her — with an energy of purpose, or 
a faithfulness of zeal — too stead fait and ar- 
dent. And what is our country ] It is not 
the East, with her hills and her valleys, with 
her countless sails, and the rocky ramparts 
of her shores. It is not the North, with her 
thousand villages, and her harvest-home, with 
her frontiers of the lake, and the ocean. P. is 
not the West, with her forest-sea, and her 
inland isles, with her luxuriant expanses, 
clothed in the verdant corn ,• with her beauti- 
ful Ohio, and her majestic Missouri. Nor is 
it yet the South, opulent in the mimic snow 
of the cotton, in the rich plantations of the 
rustling cane, and in the golden robes of the 
nce-neld. What are these, but the sister 
families of one greater, better, holier family, 

OUR COUNTRY? 

VARIETIES. 

Give thy thoughts no tongue, 
Nor any unproportior.ed thought his act. 
Be thou familiar ; but by no means vulgar. 
The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, 
Grapple them to thy soul, with hooks of steel ; 
But do not dull thy palm— with entertainment 
Of ev'ry new hatch'd, unfledged comrade. Beware 
Of entrance into quarrel I but, being in, 
Bear it, that the opposer — may beware of thee. 
Give every man thine ear, but few lUy voice, [menL 
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy ju&g* 
Costly thy habit— as thy purse can buy, 
But not expressed infancy ; rich, not giudy 
For the apparel — oft proclaims the man. 
Neither a borrower, nor a lender be ; 
For loan — oft loses both itself and friend, 
And borrowing — dulls the edge of husbandry. 
This above all — to thine own self he true, 
And it must follow, as the night the day. 
Thou canst not, then — be false to any man. 
Dare to be true — nothing — can need a lie ; 
The fault that needs it — grows two — thereby. 

What do you think of marriage ? 

I take it, as those that deny purgatory / 

It locally contains or heaven or hell; 

There is no third place in it. 



152 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



dl5. Beware of a slavish attention to 
rules: tor nothing should supercede Nature, 
who knows more than Art; therefore, let her 
stand in the foreground, with art for her 
Servant. Emotion— is the soul of oratory : 
one Hash of passion on the check, one beam 
of feeling from the eye, one thrilling note of 
sensibility from the tongue, one stroke of 
hearty emphasis from the arm, have infinite' 
ly more value, than all the rhetorical rules 
and flourishes of a7icient or modern times. 
The great rule is — be in earnest. This is 
what Demosthenes more than intimated, in 
6'iruM declaring, that the most important 
i.\ Ag in eloquence, was action. There wiil 
be no execution without fire. 
Whoever thinks, must see, that man — was made 
To face the Storm, not languish in the shade; 
Actum — his sphere, ar.d, for that sphere designed, 
Eternal pleasures — open on his mind. 
For this — fair hope — leads on lh' impassioned soul, 
Through life's wild labyrinth — to her distant goal: 
Paints, is each dream, to /an the genial flame, 
The pomp of riches, and the pride of fame; 
Or, fondly gives reflection's cooler eye, 
A glance, an image, of a future sky. 

IVotCS. The standard for propriety, and force, in public 
speaking is — to speak just as one would naturally express himself 
in earnest conversation in private company. Sucli should we all 
do, if left to ourselves, and early pains were not taken to substitute 
an artificial method, for that which is natural. Beware of im- 
agining that you must read in a different way, with different tones 
and cadences, from that of common speahi7ig. 

Anecdote. The severity of the laws of 
Draco, is proverbial; he punished all sorts 
of crime, and even idleness, with death : 
hence, De-ma-des said — "He writes his 
laws, not with ink — but with blood.' 1 '' On 
being asked why he did so, he replied, — that 
the smallest crime deserved death, and that 
there was not a greater punishment he could 
find out, for greater crimes. 

Miscellaneous. 1. Envy — is the daugh- 
ter of pride, the author of revenge and mur- 
der, the beginning of secret sedition and the 
perpetual tormentor of virtue; it is the filthy 
slime of the soul, a venom, a poison, that 
consumeth the flesh, and drieth up the mar- 
row of the bones. 2. What a pity it is, that 
there are so many quarter and half men and 
women, who can take delight in gossip, be- 
cause they are not great enougli for any 
thing else. 

Were I so tall— as to reach the pole, 
And grasp the ocean — with a span, 
I would be measured — by my soul, 
The mind's — the standard of the man. 

4. What is the difference between loving 
the minds, and the persons of our friends? 
b. How different is the affection, the thought, 
action, form and manners of the male, from 
the affection, thought, action, form and man- 
ners of the female. 

Then farewell, — Pd rather make 
My t-sd — upon some icy lake, 
What thawing suns — begin to shine, 
Tha i rust a love — VA flint as thine. 
\ The stomach— hatl no ears. 



Laconics. 1. (Jotl has given us vocal organt 
and reason to use them. 2. True gesture — is tha 
language of nature, ami makes its way to the 
heart, without the utterance of a single word. 3. 
Coarseness and vulgarity — are the effects of a bad 
education; ihey cannot be chargeable to nature. 
4. Close observation, and an extensive knowledge 
of human nature alone, will enable one to adapt 
himself to all sorts of character. 5. Painting — 
describes what the object Is in itself: poetry — what 
it inspires or suggests : one — represent.-! the visible, 
the other — both the visible and the invisible. 6. 
It is uncandid self-will, that condemns without a 
hearing. 7. The mind — wills to be free; and the 
6igns of the times — proclaim the approach of iu 
restoration. 

Woman. The right education of this sex 
is of the utmost importance to human life. 
There is nothing, that is more desirable for 
the common good of all the v>orld; since, as 
they are mothers and mistresses of families, 
they have for some time the care of the ed- 
ucation of their children of both sorts ; they 
are intrusted with that, which is of the 
greatest consequence to human life. As the 
health and strength, or weakness oi our bodies, 
is very much owing to their methods of 
treating us when we were young; so — the 
soundness or folly of our minds is not less 
owing to their first tempers and ways of 
thinking, which we eagerly received from 
the love, tenderness, authority, and constant 
conversation of our mothers. As we call our 
first language our mother -tongue, so — we 
may as justly call our first tempers our moth- 
er-tempers ; and perhaps it may be found 
more easy to forget the language, than to 
part entirely with those tempers we learned 
in the nursery. It is, therefore, to be la- 
mented, that the sex, on whom so much de- 
pends, who have the first forming both of 
our bodies and our minds, are not only edu- 
cated in pride, but in the silliest and most 
contemptible part of it. Girls are indulged 
in great vanity; and mankind seem to con- 
sider them in no other view than as so many 
painted idols, who are to allure and gratify 
their passio?is. 

Varieties. 1. Was England — justified 
in her late warlike proceeding against Chi- 
na ? 2. Fit language there is none, for the 
heart's deepest things. 3. The honor of a 
maid — is her name; and no legacy is so rich 
as honesty. 4. O, how bitter a thing it is— 
to look info happiness — thro 1 another's eyes. 
Ungrateful man, with liquorish draughts, 
And morsels unctuous, greases his pure rcimi 
That from it — all consideration slips. 
To persist 
In doing wrong, extenuates not wrong, 
Eut makes it much more heavy. 
He cannot be a perfect man, 
Not being tried or tutored in the world : 
"Experience is by industry achieved, 
And perfected — by the swift course of time 
A confused report— passed thro' my ears, 
But, full of hurry, like a morning dream, 
It vanished — in the busiest of the iay. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



153 



416. The Declamatory and Horta- 
tory — indicate a deep interest for the per- 
sons addressed, a horror of the evil they are 
entreated to avoid, and an exalted estimate 
of the good, they are exhorted to pursue. 
The exhibition of the strongest feeling, re- 
quires such a degree of self-control, as, in the 
very torrent, tempest and whirlwind of pas- 
sion, possesses a temperance to give it 
smoothness. The Dramatic — sometimes 
calls for the exercise of all the vocal and 
mental powers: hence, one must consider 
the character represented, the circumstances 
under which he acted a the state of feeling he 
possessed, and every tiling pertaining to the 
scene with which he was connected. 

417. Rolla's Address to the Peru- 
vians. My brave associates — -partners — of 
my toil, my feelings, and my fame.' Can 
Rolla's words — add vigor — to the virtuous 
mergi.es, which inspire your hearts ? No,- 
you have judged as I have, the foulness of 
the crafty plea, by which these bold invaders 
would delude you. Your generous spirit 
has compared, as mine has, the motives, 
which, in a war like this, can animate their 
minds and ours. They, by a strange frenzy 
driven, fight for pi/wer, for plunder, and ex- 
tended rule; we, for our country, our altars, 
and our homes. They — follow an adventur- 
er, whom they fear, and obey a power, which 
they hate; we — serve a monarch whom we 
love, — a God, whom we adore. Whene'er 
they move in anger, desolation — tracks their 
progress ! Whene'er they pause in amity, 
affliction — mourns their friendship. They 
boast, they come but to improve our state, 
enlarge our thoughts, and free us from the 
yoke of error ! Yes — they will give enlight- 
ened freedom to our minds, who are them- 
selves the slaves of passion, avarice, and pride. 
They offer us their protection. Yes, such. 
protection — as vultures — give to lambs — 
covering, and devouring them. They call 
on us to barter all of good, we have inherited 
and proved, for the desperate chance of some- 
thing better, which they promise. Be our 
plain answer this : The throne — we honor 
— is the people's choice; the laws wc rever- 
ei?ce — are our brave fathers 1 legacy ; the faith 
we follow — teaches us to live in bonds of cha~ 
rity with all mankind, and die — with hope 
of bliss — beyond the grave. Tell your in- 
vaders this, and tell them too, we seek no 
change; and, least of all, such change as 
they would bring us. 

GAMBLTXG. 

Oh ! vice accursed, that lurV. thy victim on 
With specious smiles, and false deluding hopes — 
Smiles— that destroy, and hopes — that bring despair, 
Infatuation — dangerous and destructive, 
Pleasure most visionary, if delight, how transient! 
tre]u.le ofhorvir, anguish, and dismay! 
20 



Proverbs. 1. The more— W*i men *iok into 

their glasses, the less— they attend to the.r housts 

2. Works, and not words, are the proof of love. 3 
There is no better looking-glass, than a true friend. 
4. When we obey our superiors, we instruct our 
inferiors. 5. Theie is more trouble in having no- 
thing to do, than In having much to do. 6. Tiio 
best throw of the dice— is to throw them away. 7. 
Virtue, that parleys, is near the surrender. 8. The 
spirit of truth— dwelleth in meekness. 9. Resist a 
temptation, till you conquer it. 10. Plain dealing 
is a jewel. 

Anecdote. Faithful unto Death. When 
the venerable Polycarp — was tempted by 
Herod, the proconsul, to deny, and blaspheme 
the Lord Jestjs Christ, he answered, — 
" Eighty and six years — have I served my 
Lord and Savior,— and in all that time — 
he never did me any injury, but always 
good ; and therefore, I cannot, in conscience, 
reproach my King and my Redeemer." 

A Wife ; not an Artist. When a man 
of sense comes to marry, it is a companion he 
wants, and not an artist. It is not merely a 
creature who can paint, and play, and sing, 
and dance. It is a being who can comfort 
and counsel him; one who can reason and 
reflect, and feel and judge, and discourse and 
discriminate; one who can assist him in his 
affairs, lighten his sorrows, purify his joys, 
strengthen his principles and educate his childr 
ren. Such is the woman who is fit for a mo- 
ther, and the mistress of a family. A woman 
of the former description may occasionally 
figure in a drawing-room, and excite the ad- 
miration of the company; but is entirely 
unfit for a helpmate to man, and to train up 
a child in the way he should go. 

Varieties. 1. He, who is cautious anrt 
prudent, is generally secure from many dan- 
gers, to which many others are exposed. 2 
A fool may ask more questions in an hour 
than a wise man may answer in seven years 

3. The manner in which words are delivered 
contribute mainly to the effects they are to 
produce, and the importance which is attach- 
ed to them. 4. Shall this greatest of free na- 
tions be the best? 5. One of the greatest 
obstacles to knowledge and excellence, is in- 
dolence. 6. One hour's sleep before midnight, 
is worth two afterward. 7. Science, or learn- 
ing, is of little use, unless guided by good 
sense. 

Men — use a different speech — in different climes, 
But Nature hath erne voice, and only one. 
Her wandering moon, her stars, her golden sun, 
Her woods and waters, in all lands and timet, 
In one deep song proclaim the wondrous story. 
They tell it to each orAer — in the sky, 
Upon tht winds they send it — sounding high, 
Jehovah's wisdom, goodness, power, and glory. 
I hear it come from mountain, cliff, and tree, 
Ten thousand voices — in one voice united ; 
On every side — the song encircles me, 
The whole round world reveres — and is delighted. 
Ah ! why, when heaven — aud earth — lift up their lulc^ 
Ah ! why should man alone, no ■ worshtp, nor t cjoictP 



154 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



418. The merging of the Diatonic Scale 
in the Musical Staff, as some have done in 
elocution, is evidently incorrect ; for then, the 
exact pitch of voice is fixed, and all must 
take that pitch, whether it be in accordance 
with the voice, or not. But in the simple di- 
atonic scale, as here presented, each one 
takes his lowest natural note for his tonic, or 
ftej/-note, and then, passes to the medium 
range of pitches. Different voices are often 
keyed on different pitches,- and to bring 
Ihem all to the same pitch, is as arbitrary as 
Procrustes bedstead, according to Hudribras : 

"This iron bedstead, they do fetch, 

To try our hopes upon ; 
If we're too short, we must be stretched, 

Cut off— if we're too long.' 1 " 
Beware of all racks ; be natural, or nothing. 
What the weak head — with strongest bias rules. 
Is (G) pride ; the nerer-failing vice of fools. 
A soul, without reflection, like a pile, 
Without inhabitant — to ruin runs. 
Wit — is fine language — to advantage dressed ; 
Better often thought, but ne'er so well expressed. 
Our needful knowledge, like our needful/ood, 
Unhedged, lies open — in life's common field, 
And bids all — welcome — to the vital feast. 
Let sense — be ever in your view ; 
Nothing is lovely, that is not true. 

419. Suggestions. Let the pupils me- 
morize any of the proverbs, laconics, max' 
ims, or questions, and recite them on occa- 
sions like the following: when they first as- 
semble in the scAoo/-room ; or, meet together 
in a social circle : let them also carry on a 
kind of conversation, or dialogue with them, 
and each strive to get one appropriate to the 
supposed state, character, <fec. of another: or 
use them in a variety of ways, that their in- 
genuity may suggest. 

Pride. There is no passion so universal, 
or that steals into the heart more impercep- 
tibly, and covers itself under more disgui- 
ses, than pride ; and yet, there is not a sin- 
gle view of human nature, which is not suf- 
ficient to extinguish in us all the secret 
■seeds of pride, and sink the conscious soul — 
to the lowest depths of humility. 

Anecdote. Sterling Integrity. In 1778, 
while congress was sitting in Philadelphia, 
frequent attempts were made, by the British 
officers, and agents, to bribe several of the 
members. Governor Johnstone — authorized 
the following proposal, to be made to Col. 
Joseph Reed : " That if he would engage his 
interest to promote the objects of the British, 
he should receive thirty thousand dol- 
lars, and any office in the colonies, in his 
majesty's gift. Col. Reed — indignantly re- 
plied, — "I £>m not worth purchasing; but 
such as I am, the king of Great Britain is 
not rich enough to buy me/' 



Laconics. 1. A..y vi< ation of tew— is t 
breach of morality. 2. Music, in all its variety, 
is essentially one : and so is speech, tho' infinitely 
diversified. 3. Literary people — are often unplea* 
ant companions in mixed society; because thej 
have not always the power of adapting them- 
selves to others. 4. It is pedantry — to introduce 
foreign words into our language, when we have 
pure English words to express all that the exotic* 
contain ; with the advantage of being intelligible 
to every one. 5. Whatever is merely artificial, is 
unnatural; which is opposed to general eloquence. 
6. There can be no great advances made, in gen- 
uine scientific truth, without well regulated affee- 
tions. 7. We can be almost anything we choose; 
if we will a thing to be done, no matter how high 
the aim, success is nearly certain. 

Anger. Of all passions — there is not one 
so extravagant and outrageous as this ; other 
passions solicit and mislead us : but this— 
runs away with us by force, hurries us as 
well to our own, as to another 's ruin : it often 
falls upon the wrong person, and discharge* 
its wrath on the innocent instead of the guil- 
ty. It spares neither/riewd nor foe ; but tears 
all to pieces, and casts human nature into a 
perpetual warfare. 

VARIETIES. 

All the world's — a stage, 
And all the men and women — merely players : 
They have their exits, and their entrances ; 
And one man, in his time, plays many parts, 
His acts — being seven ages. At first, the infant, 
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms ; 
And then, the whining school-hoy, with his satchel, 
And shining morning/ace, creeping like snail, 
Unwilingly, to school. And then, the lover; 
Sighing like a furnace, with a woeful ballad 
Made to his mistress' eyebrow: Then, a soldier, 
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, 
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, 
Seeking the bubble reputation 
Even in the cannon's mouth : And then the justui; 
In fair round belly, with good capon lined, 
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, 
Full of wise saus and modern instances, 
And so he plays his part: The sixth age — shifts 
Into tne lean and slipper'd pantaloon; 
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on sidi; 
His youthful hose, wdl saved, a world too wide 
For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, 
Turning again toward childish treble— pipes, 
And whistles in his sound : Last scene of ali, 
That ends this strange eventful history, 
Is second childishness, and mere obhvwn ; 
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. 
Charity, decent, modest, easy, kind, 
Softens the high, and rears the abject mind; 
Knows, with just reins, and gentle hand, to guidt 
Betwixt vile shame — and arbitrary pride. 
Not soon provoked, she easily forgives ; 
And much — she suffers, as she. much — believe*. 
Soft peace she brings, wherever she arrives ; 
She builds our quiet, as she forms our lives; 
Lays the rough paths — of peevish nature evea 
And opens, in each heart, a little heaven. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



155 



4»0. The Slexder characteristic of 
Voice. In all cases, endeavor to express by 
the voice and gesture, the sense and feeling, 
that are designed to be conveyed by the 
words,- i.e. tell the whole truth. Most of 
*.ie following words, that Shakspeare puts 
into the mouth of Hotspur, descriptive of a 
dandy, requires the use of this peculiarity of 
voice, in order to exhibit their full meaning. 
Conceive how a blunt, straight-forward, hon- 
est soldier would make his defence, when 
unjustly accused by his finical superior, of 
unsoldier-like conduct; and then recite the 
following. 

My liege — I did deny no prisoners. 
But I remember, when the fight was done, 
When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, 
Breathless, and faint, leaning upon my sword, 
Came there a certain lord; neat, trimly dress'd; 
Fresh as a bridegroom ; and his chin, new reap'd, 
Showed like stubbleAand— at harvest home. 
He was perfumed like a milliner: 
And, 'twixt his finger and his thumb, he held 
A pouncet-box, which, ever and anon, 
He gave his nose. And still he smiPd, and talked, 
And as the soldiers — bore dead bodies by, 
He called them untaught knaves, unmannerlv, 
To bring a slovetdy, unhandsome corse 
Betwixt the wind — and his nobility. 
With many holiday, and lady terms, 
He question d me ; amongst the rest, demanded 
My prisoners, in her majesty's behalf; 
i then, all smarting with my wounds, being gall'd 
To be so pestered with a popinjay, 
Out of my grief— and my impatience, 
Answered negligently, — 1 know not what — 
He shoidd, or should not; for he made me mad, 
To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet, 
And talk so like a waning gentleivoman, [mark,) 
Of guns, and drums, and wounds, (heaven save the 
And telling me the sovreign"st thing on earth, 
Was spermaceti — for an inward bruise: 
And that it was great pity, (so it was,) 
That villanoussa&pe/re — should be digged, 
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, 
Which many a good, tall fellow had destroyed 
So cowardly ; and, but for these vile guns, 
He would himself have been a soldier: 
This bald, unjointed chat of his, my lord, 
I answered indirectly, as I said ; 
And I beseech you, let not his report 
Come current, for an accusation, 
Betwixt my love, and your high majesty. 

Number. Unity — is an abstract concep- 
tion, resembling primary, or incorporeal 
matter, in its general aggregate; one — ap- 
pertains to things, capable of being num- 
bered, and may be compared to matter, 
rendered visible under a particular form. 
Number is not infinite, any more than mat- 
ter is; but it is the source of that indefinite 
divisibility, into equal parts, which is the 
property of all bodies. Thus, unity and one 
•re to be distinguished from each other. 
Plenty— makes dainty. 



Maxims. 1. Some are ale-t in the beginning, 
but negligent in the end. 2. Fear — is often con- 
cealed under a show of daring. 3. The remedy i* 
often worse than the disease. 4. K faint heart nev- 
er won a fair lady. 5. No man is free, who does 
not govern himself. 6. An angry man opens his 
mouth, and shuts his eyes. 7. Such as give ear to 
slanderers, are as bad as slanderers themselves. 
8. A cheerful manner denotes a gentle nature. 9. 
Proud looks lose hearts, but courteous worth — uw* 
them. 10. Brevity is the soul of eloquence. 

Anecdote. Self-interest. When Dr. 
Franklin applied to the kitig of Prussia to 
lend his assistance to America, — " Pray Doc- 
tor," says he, " what is the object you mean 
to attain!" " Liberty, Sire,"" replied the phi- 
losopher ; " Liberty! that freedom, which is 
the birthright of all men." The king, after a 
short pause, made this memorable answer : 
" I was born a prince, and am become a king; 
and I will not use the powers I possess, to 
the ruin of my own trade.'' 

Of Lying. Lying — supplies those who 
are addicted to it — with a plausible apology 
for every crime, and with a supposed shelter 
from every punishment. It tempts them to 
rush into danger — from the mere expecta- 
tion of impunity ; and, when practiced with 
frequent success, it teaches them to confound. 
the gradations of guilt ; from the effects of 
which there is, in their imaginations, at 
least one sure and common protection. It 
corrupts the early simplicity of youth; it 
blasts the fairest blossoms of genius; and 
will most assuredly counteract every effort, 
by which we may hope to improve the tal- 
ents, and mature the virtues of those whom 
it infects. 

Varieties. 1. A very moderate power, 
exercised by perseverance, will effect — what 
direct force could never accomplish. 2. We 
must not deduce an argument against the use 
of a thing, from an occasional abuse of it. 3. 
Should we let .a painful and cold attention to 
manner and voice, chill the warmth of our 
hearts, in our fervency and zeal in a good 
cause] 4. Youth — often rush on, impetu- 
ously, in the pursuit of every gratification, 
heedless of consequences. 5. The adherence 
to truth — produces much good ,- and its ap- 
pearances — much mischief. 6. Every one, 
who does not grow better, as he grows older, 
is a spendthrift of that time, which is more 
precious than gold. 7. Obedience to the 
truths of the Word, is the life of all; for 
truths are the laws of the heavens, and of the 
church ; obedience — implies the reception of 
them; so far as we receive, so far we ar« 
alive, by the coming of the kingdom within 
us. 

Whoe'er, amidst the sons 
Of reason, valor, liberty, and virtue, 
Displays distinguished merit, is a nobh 
Of Nature's own making. 



156 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



431. Tremor or Voice — resembles the 
trill in singing, and may be indicated in this 
manner, — ~- ^^~~^- ; the voice ranging 
from a quarter of a tone, to several tones. 
rt is made deep in the throat, with a drop- 
ping of the jaw ; and wheA properly dsed, 
it is very effective and heart-stirring : espe- 
cially, in the higher kinds of oratory- It 
heightens joy, mirth, rapture, and exulta- 
tion, • adds pungency to scorn, contempt,B.nd 
sarcasm : deepens the notes of sorrow, and 
enhances those of distress e often witnessed 
in children, when manifesting their delights. 
There are several degrees, from the gross to 
the most refined. 

422. 1. Said Falstaff, of his ragged regi- 
ment, " I'll not march through Coventry 
with them, that's fiat ; no eye hath seen such 
scarecrows." Almost every word requires a 
kind of chuckle, especially the italic ones ; 
and by making a motion with the chin, up 
and down, the shake of the voice will corres- 
pond to the sign, — ^-v^^-^ . 2. In 
this example we have an instance of a refin- 
ed tremor of voice ; but the right feeling is ne- 
cessary to produce it naturally. Queen Cath- 
arine said, in commending her daughter to 
Henry, " And a little to love her, for her moth- 
er's sake: who loved him — heaven knows 
how dearly" The coloring matter of the 
voice is feeling — passion, which gives rise to 
the qualities of voice; thus, we employ 
harsh tones in speaking of what we disap- 
prove, and euphoneous ones in describing the 
objects of love, complacency, admiration, &c. 

433. In extemporaneous speaking, or 
speaking from manuscript, (i. e. making it 
talk,) when the speaker is under the influ- 
ence of strong passion, the voice is apt to be 
carried to the higher pitches : how shall he 
regain his medium pitch 1 by changing the 
passion to one requiring loio notes; thus, 
the surface of his flow of voice, will present 
the appearance of a country with mountains, 
hills, and dales. Elocution — relates more to 
the words and thoughts of others ,• oratory 
to our ou;n. To become a good reader and 
speaker, one must be perfect in elocution, 
which relates to words: in logic, which re- 
lates to tlwughts ; and in rhetoric, which ap- 
pertains to the affections : thus involving 
ends, causes, and effects. 

Anecdote. Aged Gallantry. A gallant 
old gentleman, by the name of Page, who 
was something of a rhymester, finding a la- 
dy's glove at a watering-place, presented it 
to her, with the following lines : 

" If from your glove— you take the letter g, 

Your glove — is love — which I devote to — the*.* 

To which the lady returned the following 
jnswer : 

"If from your Page, you take the letter p. 

Your fag 5— is age — anl that won't do for me." 



Proverbs. 1. Proud persons huve few red 
friends. 2. Mildness — governs belter than anger. 
3. No hope should influence 'as to do evil. 4. Few 
things are impossible to skill and industry. 5. 
Diligence — is the mistress of success. 6. Conscience 
U jiever dilatory r n her warnings. 7. A vain 
hope flattereth the heart of &fool. 9. Moderate 
speed is a sure help to all proceedings. 9. Liber- 
ality of knowledge makes no one the poorer. 10. 
If you endeavor to be honest, you struggle with 
yourself. 

Names. A man, that should call every thing 
by its right name, would hardly pass through 
the streets) without being knocked down as a 
common enemy. 

Varieties. 1. In 1840, there were in the 
United States, five hundred and eighty-four 
thousand whites, who could not read or 
write; five thousand, seven hundred and 
seventy-three deaf and dumb ; five thous- 
and and twenty-four blind ; fourteen thous- 
and five hundred and eight insane, or idiots, 
and two millions four hundred and eighty- 
seven thousand slaves. 2. As our popula- 
tion increases thirty-four per cent, in ten 
years, at this rate, in 1850, our seventeen 
millions will be twenty-two millions: in 
1S60, thirty millions ; and in 1900, ninety- 
five millions. 3. The regular increase of the 
N. E. states is fourteen per cent ; of the mid- 
dle states twenty-five per cent. ; of the south- 
ern twenty-two per cent. ; and of the west- 
ern — sixty-eight per cent. 4. Many persons 
are more anxious to know who Melchisedec 
was, or what was Paul's thorn in the flesh, 
than to know what they shall do to be saved. 
5. To cure anger, sip of a glass of water, till 
the fit goes off. 6. An infallible remedy foi 
anxiety — "cast thy burden upon the Lord, 
and he shall sustain thee." 

TRY ; TRY AGAIN. 

'Tis a lesson — you should heed, 

Try, try again; 
If at first — you don't succeed, 

Try, try again ; 
Then your courage should appear, 
For, if you will persevere, 
You will conquer, never fear ; 

Try, try again. 
Once, or twice, though you should fail, 

Try, try' again ; 
If you would, at last, prevail, 

Try, try again ; 
If we strive, 'tis no disgrace, 
Though we may not win the race; 
What should you do in the case? 

Try, try again. 
If you find your task is hard, 

Try. try again; 
Time will bring you your reward, 

Try, try again; 
All that other folks can do, 
Why. with patience, should not you t 
Only keep this rule in view, 

Thy, TRY A CAIN. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



157 



424. Before entering on a consideration 
and illustration of the Passions, the pupil is 
urged to revise the preceding lessons and 
exercises; but do not he deceived with the 
idea, that thinking about them is enough, 
or reading them over silently; join practice 
with thought, and the effects are yours. One 
of the great difficulties in lhi?iki?ig about 
any art or science, andlvvitnessing the efforts 
of others in their presentation, is — that one's 
taste is so far in advance of his own practice, 
that he becomes disgusted with it, and des- 
pairs of his success. Let us remember that 
nothing is truly our own, that we do not 
understand, love and practice. 

HAMLET'S INSTRUCTION'S ON DELIVERY. 

Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced 
it to you; trippingly on the tongue. But if you 
mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief 
the town-crier had spoke my lines. And do not 
saw the air too much with your hand; but use all 
gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I 
may say, whirlwind of your passion, you must 
acquire and beget a temperance, that may give it 
tmoothness. Oh! it offends me to the soul, to hear 
a robustious, periwig-p<ite& fellow tear a passion 
to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the 
groundlings ; who, (for the most part,) are capa- 
ble of nothing, but inexplicable dumb-show and 
noise. I would have such a fellow whipped for 
o'erdoing termaga?it, it out-Herod's Herod. Pray 
you, avoid it. Be not too tame, neither; but let 
your own discretion be your tutor. Suit the ac- 
tion — to the word, the wo~~l — to the action; with 
tliis special observance, that you o'erstep not the 
modesty of nature: for anything, so overdone, is 
from the purpose of playing ; whose end, both at 
\he first, and now, was, and is — to hold, as 'twere, 
the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her oivn 
feature, scorn — her own image, — and the veTV age 
and body of the time, his form and pressure. Now, 
this overdone, or come tardy off, though it may 
make the unskillful laugh, cannot but make the 
judicious — grieve: the censure of one of which, 
must, in your allowance, o'erweigh a whole thea- 
tre of others. Oh! ihere be players that I have 
seen play, and heard others praise, and that high- 
ly, that, neither hav'mg the accent of christian, nor 
the gait of christian, pagan, nor man, have so 
strutted and bellowed, that I ha^e thought some 
of nature's journeymen had made men, and not 
made them well ; they imitated humanity so abom- 
inably. 

435. Tendencies of our Language. 
As our language abounds in monosyllables, 
it affords good means to deliver our thoughts 
in few sounds, and thereby favors despatch. 
which is one of our characteristics ; and 
when we use words of more than one sylla- 
ble, we readily contract them some, by our 
rapid pronunciation, or by the omission of 
some vowel; as, drown'd, walk'd, dips; in- 
stead of drown-ed, walk-ed, dip-peth, &c; 
and even proper names of several syllables, 
when familiarized, often dwindle down into 
monosyllables; whereas, in other languages, 
t&ey receive a softer turn, by the addition 
K a new syllable. 



Pi-overlie. 1. Beauty is lp longer c\m able, 
than while virtue adorns it. 2. Past services 
should never he forgotten. 3. A. known enemy is 
better than a treacherous friend. 4. Don't engage 
in any undertaking, if your conscience says no 
to it. 5. Benefits and injuries receive their value 
from the intention. 6. We should give by choice, 
and not by hazard. 7. He, that does £cod to an- 
other, from proper motives, does good a:to to him- 
self. 8. He that is false to God can never be trus 
to man. 9. A good principle is sure to produce a 
good practice. 10. None are fuly wise, but those 
that are pure in heart. 

Anecdote. Contrary. A woman, having 
fallen into a river, her husband went to look 
for her, proceeding up stream from where 
she fell in. The bystanders asked him if 
he was mad? she could not have gone 
against the stream. The man answered : 
;1 She was obstinate and contrary in her life- 
lime, and I suppose for certain she is so at 
her death.'''' 

Intuition. We cannot have an idea of 
one', without the idea of another to which it 
is related. We then get the idea of two, 
by contemplating them both; referring, ab- 
stractly, to one of them. We say one and 
one are equal to two; one one, is less than 
two ones; therefore, one does not equal two. 
One and one. are the parts of two, and the 
parts of a thing are equal to the whole of it. 
Thus, we come to the knowledge of what 
has been called intuitive proposition, only 
by reasoning. When such a principle is 
clearly admitted, we cannot deny its truth, 
for a moment : but it is far from being, 
strictly speaking, an intuitive truth. 

Varieties. 1 . The virtues of the country 
are with our women, and the only remaining 
hope of the resurrection of the genius anc 
character of the nation, rests with them. 2. 
The present — is the parent of the future. 3. 
The last words of the Indian chief, who 
died at Washington, in 1824, were, " When 
I am gone, let the big guns be fired over 
me. 11 4. Beware of turning away from do- 
ing good, by thinking how much good you 
would do, if you only had the means. 5. 
The pleasure of thinking on important sub- 
jects, with a view to communicate our tho'ts 
to the unfolding minds around us, is a most 
exquisite pleasure. 6. Principle and prac- 
tice must go hand in hand, to make the 
man, or woman. 7. The time is fast ap- 
proaching, when the mind will strike out 
new fields, and view itself, i ts Creator, and 
the Universe from new positions. 

HOPE. 

Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear, 
More sweet than all the landscapes shining nr.art 
'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, 
And robes the mountain in its azure hue ! 
Thus with delight we linger to survey 
The promis'd joys of life's unmeasur'd way" 
Thus from afar, each dim discover'd scene, 
More pleasing seems than all the past hath bf en, 
And every form that fancy can repair, 
From dark oblivion, glows divinely there. 



59 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION". 



426. A Just delivery consists in a distinct 
articulation of words, pronounced in proper 
Hones, suitably varied to the sense, and the 
emotions of the mind ; with due observation 
of accent, the several gradations of emphasis ; 
pauses or rests in proper places, and well 
measured degrees of time ; and the whole ac- 
companied with expressive looks, and signi- 
ficant gestures. To conceive, and to execute, 
are two different things : the first may arise 
from study and observation; the second is 
Hie effect of practice. 

427. Rules for the x . When ques- 
tions are not answered by yes or no g as, Who 
is that lady] In affirmative sentences ; 
as — I am prepared to go : language of au- 
thority; as — Back to thy punishment, 
false fugitive: terror; as — The light 
burns blue : surprise ; as — Sir, I perceive 
that thou art a prophet: reprehension - ; 
as — You are very much to blame for suffer- 
ing him to pass : indignation : Go — false 
follow, and let me never see your face 
again: contempt; as — To live in awe of 
such a thing as /myself: exclamation: 
O nature ! how honorable is thy empire ! 
rhetorical dialogue, when one or more 
persons are represented ; as — James said, 
Charles, go and do as you were bidden,- and 
John said, he need not go at present, for I 
have something for him to do: and the 
final pause; as — All general rules have 
some exceptions. 

42S. Important Questions. 1. Isthere 
more than one God? 2. Was the world crea- 
ted out of nothing? 3. What is the mean- 
ing of the expression, " let us make man in 
our image, after our likeness ?" 4. By what 
means can we become happy? 5. Can we 
be & friend, and an enemy, at the same time ] 
6. Are miracles the most convincing eviden- 
ces of truth ? 7. Will dying for principles, 
prove any thing more than the sincerity of 
the martyr '? 8. Is it possible for a created 
being to merit salvation by good luorks ? 9. 
Have we life of our own ,• or are we dependent 
on God for it every moment] 10. What is 
the difference between good and evil? 11. 
Ts any law independent of its maker? 12. 
Are miracles — violations of nature's laws? 

429. Some think matter is all, and man- 
ner little or nothing; but if one were to 
speak the sense of an angel in bad words, and 
with a disagreeable utterance, few would 
listen to him with much pleasure or profit. 
The figure of Adonis, with an awkward air, 
Mid ungraceful motion, would be disgusting 
instead of pleasing. 

Reader, whosoe'er thou art, 
What thy God has given, impart ; 
Hide it not within the ground ; 
Wrini the cup of I lessing round. 



Proverbs. 1. To fail, or not—Ko fail ; tkOL 
is the question. 2. He, that loveth pleasure, shall 
be a poor man. 3. Flattery is a dazzling meteor 
that casts a delusive glare before the mental eye 
seduces the imagination, perverts the judgment, 
and silences the dictates of reason. 4. Mankind 
are governed more by feeling and impulse, than 
by reason and reflection} 5. Our duty and true 
interest, always unite. 6. An occasional hearty 
laugh, is often an act of wisdom. 7. No one can 
be great, who is not virtuous. 8. We make more 
than half the evils we feel. 9. JVo one can esti- 
mate the value of a pious, discreet, and faithful 
mother. 10. The boy— is the father of the man. 

Anecdote. Tallov) and Talent. Fletcher, 
bishop of Nesmes, was the son of a tallow- 
chandler. A great duke once endeavored to 
mortify the prelate, by saying to him, at the 
king's levee, that he smelt of talloic. To 
winch the bishop replied, "My lord, I an 
the son of a chandler, it is true, and if you* 
lordship had been the same, you would have 
remained a chandler all the days of your life. 

Disinterestedness— is the very Jiower of 
all the virtues, a manifestation — in the heart 
of one who feels and acts from it. of heaven 
on earth, — the very reflectum of the sun of 
Paradise. If mankind more generally, knew 
how beautiful it is to serve others, from the 
love of doing them good, there would not be 
so much cold and narrow selfishness in the 
world. When we have contributed most to 
the happiness of others, we are receptive our- 
selves of the most happiness. 

Varieties. 1. Never repay kindness with 
tmkindness. 2. Is pride — commendable? 3. 
No guarantee for the conduct of nations, or 
individuals, ought to be stronger than that 
which honor imposes. 4. Tme patriotism 
labors for civil and religious liberty all over 
the world — for universal freedom ; the liber- 
ty and iutppiness of the human race. 5. 
What is charily, and what are its fruits ? 6. 
When persons are reduced to want, by their 
own laziness, or vices, is it a duty to relieve 
them] 7. To read Mdton's Paradise Lost, 
is the pleasure of but few. 8. The argu- 
ment of the Essay on Man, is said to have 
been written by Bolingbroke, and versified 
by Pope. 9. Painting, Sculpture and Archi- 
tecture — are three subjects, on which nearly 
all persons, of polite education, are compelled 
to conceal ignorance, if they cannot display 
knowledge. 10. Is labor — a blessing, or*a 
a curse ? 

Music!— oh ! how faint, how weak! 

Language— fades leforethy spell ; 
Why should feeling — ever speak, 
When thou canst breathe her soul— so well 
Ah ! why will kings— forget— that they are mtiu, 
And men, that they are brethren ? [the tie* 

Why delight— in human sacrifice! Why burst 
Of nature, that should knit their souls t ^ethei 
In one soft band— of amity and love ? 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



159 



43C Style. The character of a person's 
■tyle t reading and speaking depends upon 
his moral perceptions of the ends, causes, and 
effects of the composition: thus, sttle may 
be considered the man himself, and, as every 
one sees and feels, with regard to everything, 
according to the state or condition of his 
mind, and as there are and can be no two 
persons alike; each individual will have a 
manner and style peculiar to himself; tho' 
in the main, that of two persons of equal 
education and intelligence, may be in a great 
degree similar. 

431. Rules for the '. When ques- 
tions are answered by yes or no, they gen- 
erally require the '. Exs. Are you well ? 
Is he gone ? Have you got your hat ? Do 
you say yes ? Can he accommodate me ? 
Will you call and see me? But when the 
questions are emphatic, or amount to an affir- 
mative,the y isnse&. .AVe you well? As much 
as to say : tell me whether you are well. Is 
he gone] Have you done it? All given 
in an authoritative manner. Hath he said 
it, and shall he not do it? He that planted 
the ear, shall he not hear ? Is he a man, 
that he should repent ? 

433. Important Questions. 1. Is the 
casket more valuable than the jewel? 2. 
Will not the safety of the community be en- 
dangered, by permitting the murderer to live? 
3. Are theatres — beneficial to mankind 1 4. 
Did Napolean do more hurt than good to the 
world? 5. Were the Texans right — in re- 
belling against Mexico? 6. Ought the license 
system to be abolished ? 7. Is animal mag- 
netism true ? 8. Who was the greatest mon- 
ger— Nero, or Catiline? 9. Should we act 
from policy, or from principle? 10. Is not 
the improvement of the mind, of the first im- 
portance ? 

tfatiure. Man is radiant with expressions. 
Evexy feature, limb, muscle and vein, may 
tell something of the energy within. The 
brow, smooth or contracted, — the eye, placid, 
dilated, tearful, flashing, — the lip, calm, quiv- 
ering, smiling, curled, — the whole counten- 
ance, serene, distorted, pale, flushed, — the 
hand, with its thousand motions,— the chest, 
still or heaving,— the attitude, relaxed or firm, 
cowering or lofty ,—in short, the visible char- 
acteristics of the whole external man, — are 
Nature's hand-writing ; and the tones and 
qualities of the voice, soft, low, quiet, broken, 
agitated, shrill, grave, boisterous, — are her 
oral sanguage : let the student copy and 
learn. Nature is the goddess, and art and 
science her ministers. 

Since trifles— make the gum of human things, 
And half our misery— from onr foibles spring*; 
Since life's be:t joys— consist in peace and ease, 
And/eu>— can save or serve, but all— can pleatt; 
O let the ungentle spirit— learn from henet,— 
A small unimdnest—is a great qffencu 



Maxims. 1. It does not become a law-malar, 
to become a laiv-breaker. 2. Friendship is slrongei 
than kindred. 3. Idleness is the sepulchre of a liv- 
ing man. 4. An orator, without judgment, is like a 
horse without a bridle. 5. He that knows when to 
speak, knows when to be silent. 6. The truest end 
of life — is to know the life lh»t nevei ends. 7 
Wine has drowned more than Jie sea. S. Impose 
not on others a burthen which you cannot bear 
yourself. 9. He overcomes a stout tnemy, that 
overcomes his own anger. 10. Study mankind 
as well as books. 

Anecdote. Note of Interrogation (?). 
Mr. Pope, the poet, who was small and dC' 
formed, sneering at the ignorance of a young 
man, who was very inquisitive, and asked a 
good many impertinent questions, inquired 
of him if he knew what an interrogation 
point was ? " Yes sir," said he, " it is a little 
crooked thing, like yourself, that asks ques- 
tions." 

Ideas, acquired by taste — are compound 
and relative. If a man had never experi- 
enced any change, in the sensation produced 
by external things, on the organs of taste, 
that which he now calls siveet, (if it had been 
the quality, subjected to the sense,) would 
have conveyed to the mind no possible idea; 
but, alternating with the quality we call bit- 
ter, contrariety — produces the first impres- 
sion, and he learns to distinguish the qualities 
by names. The sensation — awakened by 
Madeira wine, must be very acute, to enable 
a man to discriminate, accurately, without a 
very careful comparison. Let a particular 
kind of Madeira wine remain a few years on 
the lees of many other kinds, and who would 
detect the compound flavor, but the contriver ? 

Varieties. 1. Inspire a child with right 
feelings, and they will govern his actions: 
hence, the truth of the old adage, Example 
is better than precept. 2. The great difficult y 
is, that we give rules, instead of inspiring 
sentiments; it is intern to lead the under- 
standing with rules, if the affections are not 
right. 3. Benjamin West states, that his mo 
ther kissed him, eagerly, when he showed her 
the likeness he had sketched of his baby sis- 
ter; and, he adds, — that kiss made me a 
painter. 4. Lay by all scraps of material 
things, as well as of knowledge, and they 
will certainly come in use within seven years. 
5. Gain all the information you can, learn all 
that comes in your way, without being intru- 
sive, and provided it does not interfere with 
the faithful discharge of other duties. 6. It 
was a maxim of the great William Jones, 
never to lose an opportunity of learning 
anything. 

A wise man poor, 
Is like a sacred book, that's never read ; 
To himself he lives, and to all else seems dead: 
This age— thinks better of a gilded fool, 
Than of a threadbare saint— in witdoni't school 



160 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



433. Style. The numerous examples 
given throughout this work, afford the neces- 
sary means for illustrating all the principles 
of elocution: let the taste, and judgment, as 
well as the abilities of the student — be test- 
ed by a proper selection and application of 
them. He must not expect too much from 
others, nor take it unkindly, when thrown 
upon his own resources : the best way to in- 
crease our strength, is to have it often tested. 
All who become orators, must make them- 
selves orators. 

434. Important Questions. 1. If we 
do well, shall we not be accepted ? 2. Which 
is more useful, fire, or water ? 3. Ought cir- 
cumstantial evidence to be admitted in crim- 
inal cases'! 4. Can we be too zealous in 
rightly promoting a good cause '.' 5. Which 
is worse, a bad education, or no education 1 
6. Are not bigotry and intolerance — as des- 
tructive to morality, as they are to common 
sense ? 7. Are we not apt to be proud of 
that which is not our own ? 8. Ought there 
not to be duties on imported goods, to en- 
courage domestic manufactures ? 9. Is sla- 
very right ? 10. Have steamboats been the 
cause of more good than evil ? 

435. Igxorance ant) Error. It is al- 
most hs difficult to make one unlearn his er- 
rors, as to acquire knowledge. JVfoZ-infor- 
mation is more hopeless than rcon-informa- 
tion , for error is always more busy than ig- 
norance. Ignorance — is a blank sheet, on 
which we may write ; but error — is a scrib- 
bled one, from which we must first erase. 
Ignorance — is contented to stand still, with 
her back to the truth; but error — is more 
presumptuous, and proceeds in the same di- 
rection. Ignorance has no light, but error 
follows a false one. The consequence is, 
that error, when she retraces her footsteps, 
has farther to go, before she can arrive at the 
truth, than ignorance. 

Anecdote. Virtue before Riches. The- 
rnistocles — had a daughter, to whom two men 
were wishing to make love ; one — was very 
rich, but a simpleton, and the other — -poor, 
but a very wise man : the father preferred the 
lutter, — saying, " I would rather have a man 
without riches, than riches without a man." 
The primal duties — shine aloft, like stars ; 
The charities, that soothe, and heal, and bless, 
Are scattered at the feet of man, tike flowers ; 
The gt nerous inclination, the just rule, 
Kind wishes, and good actions, and pure thoughts. 
No mystery is here ; no special boon 
For high, and not for low ; for proudly graced, 
A nd not for meek of heart. The smoke ascends 
To heaven as lightly from the cottage hearth, 
k& from the haughty palace. He. whose soul 
Ponders this true equality, may walk 
Th J fields of earth — with gratitude and hope. 
Our wishes lengthen — as our sun declines. 



Maxims. 1. Punctuality begets confident*. 
and is the sure road to honor and resptct. 2. A 
picture is a poem, without words. 3. Sensible m&x 
show their sense, by saying much in few words 
4. lie, who thinks to cheat another, cheats hint' 
self. 5. Pride is easily seen in others; but w<t 
rarely see it in ourselves. 6. Wealth is not hts 
who gets it, but his who enjoyz it. 7. A bad booV 
is one of the worst of thieves. 8. Toleration 
should spring from charity, not from indifferent*. 

9. Too much prosperity makes most men fook-. 

10. He, who serves God, has the best master in 
the world. 11. One love drives another out. li 
Health is better than wealth. 

Influence. Few are aware of the full ex- 
tent of meaning contained in this word. If 
we can measure the kind and quantity of 
influence, that every variety of heat and cold 
has on the world of matter ; if we can tell 
the influence, that one individual has on an- 
other, one society on another, and one na- 
tion on another, both for time and eternity; 
if we can estimate the influence, that spir 
itual beings have on one another, and on 
the human race, collectively, and separately ; 
also the influence of the Great Spirit on all 
creation, then, we are able to see and realize 
the mighty meaning of this important word. 
Contemplate and weigh the influence, that 
different kinds of food and drink have on the 
human system, by being appropriated to ita 
innumerable parts; the influence on body 
and mind of keeping and violating the laws 
of life, by thinking, feeling, and acting ; the 
influence, which a good or bad person has on 
his associates and also their influence on oth- 
ers, through all coming time, as well as in the 
eternal world, and you will perceive some- 
hing of the importance of ceasing to do' evil, 
and learning to do well ; of living and prac- 
ticing what is good and true, and thereby 
being saved from all that is evil wad. false. 

Varieties. 1. Lord Coke — wrote the fol- 
lowing, which he religiously observed ; " Six 
hours to sleep, to law's great study six, Four 
spend in prayer, the rest to nature fix. 1 ' 2. 
Wm. Jones, a wiser economist of the fleeting 
hours of life, amended the sentiment thus ; 
Seven hours to law, to soothing slumbers 
seven, Ten to the world allot, and all to 
heaven. 3. The truly beautiful and sublime 
are to be found within the regions of nature 
and probability : the false sublime sets to it- 
self no bounds: it deals in thunders, earth- 
quakes, tempests, and whirlwinds. 4. Is it 
any pain for a bird to fly, a. fish to swim, or 
a boy to play ? 5. Confound not vociferation- 
with emphatic expression; for a whisper 
may be as discriminating as the loudest tone* 
6. Speech— is the gift of God. 7. Order—* 
the same in the world, in man, and in tht 
church; man — is an ejitome of all <Jie prin- 
ciples of order. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



1G1 



43S. Style, &c. To accomplish your ob- 
ject, sliuiy the true meaning and character 
of the subject, so as to express the whole, in 
such a way as to be perfectly understood and 
felt : thus, you will transport yom hearers 
to the scene you describe, and your earnest- 
ness raise them on the tiptoe of expectation, 
and your just arguments sweep everything 
before them like a fountain torrent: to ex- 
cite, to agirate, and delight, are among the 
most powerful arts of persuasion: but the 
impressions must be enforced on the mind by 
a command of all the sensibilities and sym- 
pathies of the soul. That your course may 
be erer upward and onward, remember, none 
but a good man can be a perfect orator; un- 
corrupted and incorruptible integrity is one 
of the most powerful engines of persuasion. 

437. Important Questions. 1. Is any 
government — as important as the principles 
it should protect and extendi 2. Should we 
remain passive, when our country, or politi- 
cal rights are invaded ? 3. Are banks bene- 
ficial ! 4. Have the crusaders been the cause 
of more evil than good? 5. Was the war 
waged against the Seminoles of Florida, Just. 2 
6. Which is the more important acquisition, 
wealth, or knowledge? 7. Is there any neu- 
tral ground between good and evil, truth and 
falsehood? 8. Which should we fear most, 
the commission of a crime, or the fear of pun- 
ishment ? 9. By binding the understanding, 
and forcing the judgment, can we mend the 
heart ? 1 0. When proud people meet toge- 
ther, are they not always unhappy? 11. Is 
not common sense a very rare and valuable 
article 1 1 2. What is the use of a body, with- 
out a soul? 

438. Manner and Matter. The secret 
of success in Music, as well as in Elocution, 
is, to adapt the manner perfectly to the mat- 
ter: if the subject be simple, such must be 
the manner : if it be gay and lively, or solemn 
and dignified, such, or such must be the 
manner • in addition to which, the performer 
must forget himself, or rather lose himself in 
the subject, body and soul, and show his re- 
gard to his audience, by devoting himself to 
the subject : and hence he must never try to 
show himself off: but hide behind the thought 
and feeling, and depend upon them to pro- 
duce the effect: if there is any affectation, 
the hold on the heart is in that proportion 
relinquished. Oh, when shall we take our 
appropriate place and regard usEasthegrartd 
object ! 

But sure — to foreign climea— we need not range, 

Nor learth the ancient records of our race, 
To learn— the dire effect of time — and change, 

Which, in ourselves, alas ! we daily trace ; 
Tft. at the darkened eye, the withered fact, 

Or hoary hair— 1 never will repine ; 
But spare, 7'ime! whate'er of mental grace, 

Of candrr, love, or sympathy d'vine; 
"^hatr'er zf fanev'a ray, or frisiuhhip's flame it mine. 

BRONSON. 11 



Maxims. 1. Revenge, however sweet, ia 
dearly bought. 2. Life is half spent, before we 
know what it is to live. 3. The world is a ivork- 
swp, and the ivise onry know how to use its tools. 

4. A man is valued, as he makes himself valuable 

5. Heaven is not to be had, merely by wishing for 
it. 6. As often as we do good, we sacrifice. 7. Be 
careful to keep your word, even in the most trifling 
matter. 8. Hearts may agree, tho' heads may diC- 
fer. 9. Honest men are easily bound ; but yoi can 
never bind -o. knave. 10. Experience keeps a dear 
school ; but fools will learn in no other. 

Anecdote. Curious Patriotism. Some 
years ago, one of the convicts at Botany Bay, 
wrote a farce, which was acted with much 
applause in some of the theatres. Barring- 
ton, the notorious pick-pocket, wrote the 
prologue,- which ended with these lines: 
True patriots we ; for, be it understood, 
We left our country — for our country's good. 

Ignorance — Willfulness. The ignor- 
ant — oppose without discrimination. Har- 
vey, for asserting the circulation of the blood, 
was styled a vagabond, a quack ; and perse- 
cutcd, through life, by the medical profession. 
In the time of Francis I., Ambrose Pare — in- 
troduced the ligament, to staunch the blood 
of an amputated limb, instead of boiling hot 
jntch, in which the bleeding stump had for- 
merly been dipped ; and he was persecuted, 
with the most relentless rancour, by the Fa- 
culty, who ridiculed the idea — of risking a 
man's life upon a thread, when boiling pitch 
had stood the test for centuries. Medicines 
have been proscribed as poison, and then pre- 
scribed in great quantities ; the proscriptions 
and prescrijrfions being both adopted with 
equal ignorance and credulity. There is no 
hope for man, but a thorough and co?-rect 
education in the school of truth and goodness. 

Varieties. 1. Does the nature of things 
depend on the matter, of which they are 
formed ; or on the laws of constitution, by 
which matter is airanged? 2. Is not veget- 
able matter formed from oxygen and hydro- 
gen ; and animal matter from these two and 
carbon? But what are their constituent 
parts ? Were their essences created, or aro 
they eternal ? 3. What large portions of the 
world there are of which we know compara- 
tively nothing ! and although we are familiar 
with our bodies, externally, yet how little of 
their internals do even the best physiologists 
knowl 4. How much is really known of 
the nature of mind ? and yet there is pre- 
sumption enough in some, to decide at once, 
upon all the phenomena of the mind, and 
prescribe its limits. 5. Thus, man clothes 
himself with his fanciful knowledge, and 
plays such insane tricks before the w>r)d. «* 
make the angels weep. 

The fisher — ii out en the suimy ita, 

And the reindeer— bounds o'er the pasture fre«; 

And the pine — has a fringe of a softer p-een. 

And the mon^-looXs in'g.'.t, where my foot bati l©es. 



162 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



439. Effkctivb Sty: v.. The more your 
reading and speaking partake of the freedom 
and i iso of common 'Ib-iour;?, (provided 
you sustain the u jeit and lift of the compo- 
sition) the man just, natural, and tffective 
will be your stylo of delivery : hence the ne- 
cessity of studying injure, of avoiding all 
affectation, and of never atte/iijtfihg that in 
public, which is beyond your u tidly. .Some 
mar, oi spoil what they are going to say, b} 
making so much ado over it. thinking they 
must do some gteat flung ,• when it isal most 
as simple as — wash and be clean : whatever 
is not naturul is not agreeable or persuasive. 

440. Important Questions, l. Were 
any beings ever created angels ! 2. Is it 
rigid ever to do wrong? 3. Why was a rev- 
elation necessary ? 4. .May we not protect 
our person and character from assault? 5. 
Does civilize /inn increase happiness? 6. 
Which excites more curiosity, the works of 
nature, or the works of or/? 7. Ought a 
witness to be questioned with regard to his 
religious opinions, or belief? 8. Was tl>e 
general bankrupt law a benefit to the coun- 
try'? 9. Why are we disposed to laugh, even 
when our best frientl falls down t 10. Which 
is the greatest, fait h, hope, or charity? 11. 
Should control crsy interrupt our friendship 
and esteem for each other 1 12. Have chris- 
tians any tight to persecute each other for 
their opinions ? 

441. It is much to be regretted, that our 
t'achers are so illy qualified to instruct their 
pupils c 'en in the first rudiments of reading : 
and tbej are all so much inclined to fall into 
bad habits, and the imitation of faulty speak- 
ers, that it requires constant watchfulness to 
keep clear of the influences of a wrong bias, 
and false, and merely arbitrary rules. We 
never can succeed in this important art, until 
we take elementary instruction out of the 
hands of ignoramuses, and insist upon hav- 
ing persons fully competent to take charge 
of the cause. Away then witb the idea, that 
any one can teacb reading and speaking, 
merely because he can call the letters, and 
speak thp words so as to be understood. 

Operating Circumstances. We are too 
apt, in estimating h law. passed ;il a remote peri- 
od, to combine in our consideration, all I he subse- 
quent events, which have had an inrluence upon 
it ; instead of conforming ourselves, as we ought, 
to trie circumstances, existing at the time of its 



So live, that, when thy summons comes — to joiu 
The hintim* rahle Oft) avail, th*t moves 
Tt the pate i -Mine of thaJe. where each shall take 
HU choir Jer— in the silent halls ol death, 
Ttir.u ?o )xtt. like the ipiarry-ahw, at niz-ht, 
Scrurgcj to his dungeon ; but, nutaiiiuf ami soothed 
By an unfitUtring trust, approach Ihy erave, 
Like one, who wi ips ths draper) of his much 
About hiDi, auJ tin duv.-n — to pUasant dream*. 



Maxims. 1. Happiness is the shadow il 
contentment and rests, or moves forever with in 
original 2. A drop of wisdom is worth a tun of 
riches. 3. Whatever does not stand with credit, 
will not stand long. 4. Qusin«ss musi he aiund- 
ed to, at the expense ofervry iling else of lees t*m» 
portanc*. 5. Our slates of wmr/ differ as muck 
as our epirttt and temper, li. DetuA--caiinol totf 
what nevi r dies, — mutual lore. 7. If you will 
uoi hear reason, she wil rap you over your knurk* 
les. 8. Open rebuke is hejter than secret love. 9. 
Good covnsel is thrown «//-.»// on the ancgewai 
and self-conceited. 10, He, who resolves to.n/»nd^ 
has 6W. and (A good bei. IBS on his >.'vlt. 

Anecdote. Vanity Reproved "I am 
very thank, ul, that ///.;/ mouth has been open- 
ed to preach wit haul any learning," — said 
an illiterate preacher, in speaking against 
educating ministers, to preach the gospel. 
A gentleman present replied, " Sir, a similar 
event took place in BuutunCs time " 

Education — should give us command of 
every faculty of body, and mind — call out all 
our powers of observation and reflection, 
change the creatures of impulse, prejudice 
and passion, to thinking, reasoning, and lov- 
ing beings; lead to objects of pursuits, and 
habits of conduct, favorable to the happiness 
of every individual, and to the whole world, 
and multiply all the means of enjoyment, 
and diminish every temptation to vice and sen- 
suality ; and true education will doa{\ this. 

Varieties. 1. What is moral virtue ? 2. 
The greatest danger to public liberty, is from 
vice and idleness. 3. He, that showeth mer- 
cy, shall receive mercy. 4. Never attempt 
anything more, than there is a prospect of 
accomplishing. 5. Should not beads — as 
well as men, be treated with kindness? 6. 
Rational liberty — is diametrically opposed 
to the wildness of anarchy. 7. We should 
never ascribe bad motives, when we can sup- 
pose good ones. S. Nothing is more preju- 
dicial — to the great interests of a nation, 
than uncertain and vari ing policy. 9. Is 
it lawful — to contend with others, on any oc- 
casion? 10. Prefer the evident interests of 
the community, to the suggestions of tin 
pride of consistency. 10. Cleanliness — u 
next to godliness. 

Why have those banished and forbidden le^s 
Dared once to touch a dust of England's eround > 
But more than why— Why have they daied to mkrch 
So many miles upon her peaceful bosom ; 
Frightening her pale-faced villagers wiUj war, 
And ostentation of despised arms? 
Comest thou because the anointed kin» is her.ee? 
Why, foolish boy, the king is left behind, 
And in my loyal bosom lies his power. 
Were I but now the lord of such hot youth 
As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and ruyselt, 
Rescued the Black Prince, that yovsg Ma'»of m<% 
From fortk the ranks of many Ciowuiid French; 
Oh, then, how quickly should tt'.n arm ct min*, 
Now prisoner to the patsy, cl astise tlier, 
An:! mi ne'er cmectioi. to thy fault 1 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



103 



442t Eloquence. What were ail 'he 
Uttnini ea of man, his personal accomplish- 
ments: and his boasted reason, wilhoat ihe 
faculty of speech ? To excel in its use is 
the highest of human arts. It enable- man 
to govern whole nations , and to enchant., 
while lie governs. The aristocracy ol ^Elo- 
quence is supreme, and, in a free country. 
can m ver be subdued. It is the pride of 
peare, and the glory of war: it rides upon 
the zephyr's wings, or thunders in the storm. 
Bit there is in eloquence, in painting, the 
life of the canvas, which breathes, moves, 
speaks, and is full ol action : so is there in 
the dance, the poetry and music of motion, 
the eloquence ol action; whose power con- 
sists in the wonderful adaptation ol the gra- 
ces of the body to the harmonies of mind. 
There is eloquence in every object of taste, 
both in art and nature; in sculpture, gar- 
dening, architecture, poetry and music; all 
of which come within the scope and plan of 
the orator, that he may comprehend that 
intellectual relation, that secret clause in the 
liberal professions, which, connecting one 
with another, combines the influence of all. 
Virtue, alone, ennobles human kind. 
Ami poieer — should on her glorous footsteps wait. 

Wisdom — finds tongues — in trees; books — in run 
ting sireams; sermons — in stones, and good — .n 
MXrylhing. 

Von pride you — on your golden hue; [too. 

Know — the poor glow-worm — hath its brightness 

When men of judgment— feel, and creep their way, 
The. positive — pronounce — without delay 
: T;s good, and lovely, to be kind ; 
But charily — should not be blind 
A little learning — is a dangerous thing; 
Drink deep — or taste not the Pierian sprint,} 
There, shallow draughts — intoxicate the brain, 
But, drinking largely, sobers us again. 
Ah me! the laureled wreath, thai murder wears, 
Biood-nursed and watered with the widow's tears, 
Seems ikh so foul, — so tainted, — and so dead. 
As waves the nightshade round the sceptic's bed. 

44S. Music — is the oral language of the. 
afftdions; as vwrds are the natural language 
of the thoughts.- The nates of a tune are 
analogous to letters; the measures — to ivords; 
the strauis — to sentences; and the tune, or 
musical piece, to a discourse, oration, or po- 
em. As there is a great variety of affections, 
and states of affection in the human mind, 
so there is a great variety of tunes, through 
the medium of which these affections, and 
states of affection are manifested. There 
are three grand divisions of music, which, 
for the sake of distinction, may be denomin- 
ated the upper, or that which relates to the 
Supreme Being ; the middle, or that relating 
to created, rational beings, or social music; 
and the lower, or what appertains to that 
part of creation below man — called descrip- 
tive music. 

Ambition— is like love,— impatient— 
Both of delays,— and rivals. 



Maxims. 1. Old age am! faded /towers, no 
remedies can revive. 2. Something should be 
learned every time a book is opened. 3. A tndy 
great man never puts away the simplicity of the 
eh Id. 4. The gem cannot be polished without 
friction. norwia?j — perfected, without adversity. 5. 
The, full stomach cannot realize the evils of hun- 
ger. G. When thought is agitated, truth rises. 7. 
A child requires books, as much as the merchant 
dors goods. 8. Learn by ihe vices of oth'.rs. how 
detestable your own are. 9. Judge not of men or 
things, at first sight. 10. Reprove thy friend pri- 
vately, and commend him publicly. 

Anecdote. Sharp Reply. Two country 
attorneys overtaking a wagoner, with two 
span of horses, and. thinking to be wilty at 
his expense, asked him, " How it happened, 
that his forward horses were so fat, and ihe 
rear ones so lean ',?" The wagoner, know- 
ing them, answered, "That his fore span 
were lawyers, and the oilier — clients." 

Selfishness — seems to be the complex of 
old vices. The love of self, when predom- 
inant, excludes ail goodness, and perverts al! 
truth. It is the great enemy of individuals, 
societies, and communities. It is the cause 
of all irritation the source of all evil. Peo- 
ple, who are always thinking of themselves, 
liave no lime to be concerned about others; 
their own pleasure or profit, is the pivot, on 
which everything turns. They cannot even 
conceive of disinieres;edness, and will laugh 
to scorn all, who appear to love others, as 
well as themselves. Selfishness — is the very 
essence of the first original sin, and it must 
be corrected, or we are lost. 

Varieties. 1. The wind, the falling of 
vmter, humming of bees, a sweet voice read- 
ing monotonously, tend to produce sleep j 
this is not so much ihe case with musical 
tones. 2. The trilling and quivering of 
the voice, which please, so much, correspond 
to the glittering of light: as the vwonbeam* 
playing on the waves. 3. Falling from a dis- 
cord to a concord, which produces so much 
sweetness in music, correspond to the affec- 
tions, when brought out of a state of dislike; 
and also with the taste; which is soon cloy- 
ed with what is sweet alone. 4. Music has 
great effect on mind and body, making, us 
warlike or the reverse, soft and effeminate, 
grave and light, gentle, kind and pitiful^ 
&c, according to its nature, and perform- 
ance; the reason is, because hearing is mora 
closely associated with feeling or spirits, 
than the other senses. Observe the effect of 
Yankee Doodle. God save the Ki?ig, Mar 
seilles Hymn, &c. 5. When minic speaks 
to the affection, affection obeys, as when na- 
ture speaks, nature replies. 

Let gratitude — in acts of goodness flow; 

Our love to God, in love to man below. 

Be tin's our joy — to calm the troubled breus'., 

Support the weak, and succor the distressed • 

Direct the wand'rer, dry the widows tear; 

The orphan guard, the sinking cpirii cheer. 

Tho' *mall our vower "> a n K th*»' small ou'*i-t'B 

God — s^e* the heart; he judges — by 'jc ivi'U. 



164 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



414. TlMsre arc also three great divisions 
in Portut, which is closely allied to magic; 
and both of them originate in the will, or 
affections: and hence, the icords of the 
psalm, hymn, poem, and the music in which 
they are sung, chanted, or played, constitute 
the forms, or mediums, through which the 
affections and sentiments are hodied forth. Is 
not genuine music from heaven? and does it 
not lead there if not perverted ? May not the 
same be said of poetry ? Woe betide the per- 
son, that converts them into occasions of evil ! 

How blind is pride ; what eagles are we still — 

In matters that belong to other men ; 

What beetles— in our own. 

Who fights 
With passions, and overcomes them, is endued 
With the best virtue.— 
Nature— to each — allots his proper sphere; 
But — that forsaken, we like comets are ; [broke, 
Tossed thro' the void ; by some rude shock we're 
And all our boasted fire— is lost in smoke. 
Thick waters— show no images of things ; 
Friends— are each others' mirrors, and should be 
Clearer than crystal, or the mountain springs, 
And free from cloud, design, or flatter y. 
*Tis virtue, that they want ; and wanting its 
Honor — no garments to their backs can fit. 

445. The Uses of Eloq/cexce. In every 
situation, in all the pursuits of life, may be 
seen the usefulness and benefits of eloquence. 
In whatever light we view this subject, it is 
evident that oratory is not a mere castle in 
the air : a fairy palace of frost-work ; desti- 
tute of substance and support. It is like a 
magnificent temple of Parian marble, ex- 
hibiting the most exact and admirable sym- 
metry, and combining all the orders, varieties, 
and beauties of architecture. 

Habits of Industry. It is highly impor- 
tant, that children should be taught to acquire 
habits of industry; for whatever be their habits 
while young, such, for the most part, must they 
continue to be in after life. Children — are apt 
to think it a great hardship, to be obliged to de- 
vote so much time to occupations, at present 
perhaps, disagreeable to them ; but they ought 
to be made to believe, that their tasks are not 
only intended for the informing of their minds, 
but for the bending of their wills. Good habits 
are as easily acquired as bad ones; with the 
great advantage of being the only true way to 
prosperity and happiness. 

Anecdote. Conciseness. Louis XIV. who 
loved a condr.e style, one day met a priest on 
the round, whom he asked hastily — " Whence 
come you 1 where are you going ? what do 
you want . ? " The other immediately replied, 
•'From Bruges, — To Paris, — A Benefice." 
v Y«W shall have it," replied the king. 

Servile doubt — 
Argues an impotence of mind, that saye, — 
We fear because we dare not meet misfortune. 



Maxims. 1. Want of punctuality is a species 

of falsehood. 2. Pay as you jw, and keep from 
small score*. 3. He, tliiit has his heart in hi* 
learning, will soon havp his learning iu h\a heart. 
4. The empty stomach has no ears. 5. A man 
may talk like a wise man, and yet act like nfool. 
o. Rather improve by the errors c.f others, than 
Bud fault with thorn. 7. The d.vil uirus his 
bark, when he finds the door shut against \ im. 
8. I!ett( j r be upright, with poverty, than dey* zv*& 
with abundance. 9. The value of things, is iC^ef 
so strongly realized, as when we are deprived of 
them. 10. None are so deaf as those who tcUl 
not hear. 

Reform. He, that looks back to the his- 
tory of mankind, will often see, that in poli- 
tics, jurisprudence, religion, and all the 
great concerns of society, reform — has usu- 
ally been the work of reason, slowly awn key- 
ing from the lethargy of ignorance, gradu- 
ally acquiring confidence in her own si i-ength, 
and ultimately triumphing over the domin- 
ion of prejudice and custom. 

Varieties. 1. What is mercy and its 
uses? 2. Individuals and nations, fail in 
nothing they boldly attempt, when sustained 
by virtuous purpose, and determined resolu- 
tion. 3. Some persons' heads are like bee- 
hives : not because they are all in a buzz, but 
that they have separate cells for every kind 
of store. 4. What nature offers, with a smil- 
ing face, fruit, herb, and grain— -are just 
what man's pure instinct would choose for 
food. 5. The majority — ought never m 
trample on the feelings, or violate the just 
rights — of the minority; they should not 
triumph over the fallen, nor make any but 
temperate and equitable use of their power 
6. Death is the enacted penalty of nature's 
violated laws. 7. Was it causeless, that 
washing — was introduced, as a religious 
rite, seeing that its observance is so essential 
to the preservation of health ? 

And v.-hen the soul — is fullest, the hushed tongue, 
Voieelessly trembles — like a lute unstrung. 

There's beauty— -in the deep ; 
The wave— is bluer than the sky ; 
And tho' the light — shine bright on higlL 
More softly do the sea-gems glow, 
That sparkle in the depths below ; 
The rainbow's tints — are only made 
When on the waters they are laid, 
And sun and moon — most sweetly shine 
Upon the ocean's level brine : 

There's beauty in the deep. 

There's music — in the deep : 
It is not in the surfs rough roar, 
Nor in the whispering, shelly shore — 
They — are but earthly sounds, that tell 
How little — of the sea-nymph's shell, 
That sends its loud, clear note abroad, 
Or winds its softness tnrough thefiooi, 
Echoes through groves — with coral gaj, 
And dies, on spongy banks, away : 

There's mwst'c in the ■'eep! 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



165 



446. Our Field. The orator's field is the 
universe of mind and mattery and his sub- 
jects, all that is known of God and man. 
Study the principles of things, and never 
rest satisfied with the results and applications. 
All distinguished speakers, whether they ever 
paid any systematic attention to the prin- 
ciples of elocution or not, in their most suc- 
cessful efforts, conform to them; and their 
imperfa tions are the results of deviations 
from these principles. Think correctly — ra- 
ther than finely ; sound conclusions are much 
better than beautiful conceptions. Be useful, 
rather than showy ; and speak to the pur- 
pose, or not speak at all. Persons become 
eminent, by the force of mind — the power 
of thinking comprehensivsly, deeply, closely, 
usefully Rest more on the thought, feeling, 
and expression, than on the style ,• for lan- 
guage is like the atmosphere — a medium of 
vision, intended not to be seen itself, but to 
make other objects seen ; the more transpar- 
ent however, the better. 

Hast thou, in feverish, and unquiet sleep. — 
Dreamt — th't some merciless demon of the air, 
Rais'd thee aloft, — and held thee by the hair, 
Over the brow — of a down-looking steep, 
Gaping, below, into a chasm — so deep, 
Th't, by the utmost straining of thine eye, 
Thou canst no resting place descry ; 
Not e'en a. bush — to save thee, shouldst thou sweep 
Adown the black descent; that then, the hand 
Suddenly parted thee, and left thee there, 
Holding — but by./mg-er-tips, the bare 
And jagged ridge above, that seems as sand, 
To crumble 'neath thy touch? — If so, I deem 
Th't thou hast had rather an ugly dream. 

447. Vocal Mc sic. In vocal music, there 
is a union of music and language — the lan- 
guage of affection and thought ; which in- 
cludes the whole man. Poetry and music 
Are sister arts ; their relationship being one 
of heaven -like, intimacy. The esse?ice of 
poetry consists in fine perceptions, and vivid 
expressions, of that subtle and mysterious 
analogy, that exists between the physical and 
moral world ; and it derives its power from 
the correspondence of natural things with 
spiritual. Its effect is to elevate the thoughts 
and affectio?is toward a higher state of ex- 
istence. 

Anecdote. A powerful Stimulous. When 
Lord Erskine made his debut, at the bar, his 
agitation almost overcame him, and he was 
just about to sit down. " At that moment," 
said he, " I thought I felt my little children 
tugging at my gown, and the idea roused me 
to an exertion, of which I did not think my- 
self capable:'' 

Tis not enough— your counsel still be true ; 
Blunt truths more mischief than nice falsehoods do. 
Men must be taught — as if you taught them not, 
And things unknown — propos'd as things forgot. 
Without good-breeding, truth is disapproved; 
Whaj only makes superior sense —bclov'd. 



Maxims. 1. Poverty of mind is often con- 
cealed under the garb of splendor. 2. Vice — is in- 
famous, even in a prince; and virtue, honorable, 
even in a peasant. 3. Prefer loss— to unjust gain, 
and solid seme— to wit. 4. He, that would be 
well spoken of himself must speak well of others. 
5. If every one would mend himself we should aU 
be mended. 6. A sound mind is not to be shaken 
with popular applause. 7. The best tvay to see 
divine light, is to put out our own 8. Some 
blame themselves for the purpose of being praised. 
9. Nothing needs a trick, but a trick; sincerity 
loathes one. 10. As virtue has its own reward, sc 
vice has its own punishment. 

What is Worth? The spirit of the agi 
says, — "Worth — means wealth; and wis- 
dom — the art of getting it." To be rich is 
considered, by most persons — a merit ; to be 
poor, an offence. By this false standard, it is 
not so important to be wise and good, as to 
be rich in worldly wealth ; thus it is, every 
thing, as well as every person, has its price, 
and may be bought or sold ; and thus — do 
we coin our hearts into gold, and exchange 
our souls — for earthly gain. Hence, it is said 
" a man is worth so much;" — i. e. worth just 
as much as his property or money, amount 
to, and no more. Thus, wealth, worth, or 
gain, is not applied to science, to knowledge, 
virtue, or happiness; but to pecuniary ac- 
quisition ; as if nothing but gold were gain, 
and everything else were dross Thus the 
body — is Dives, clothed in purple and fine 
linen, and faring sumptuously every day; 
while the mind — is Lazarus, lying in rags at 
the gale, and fed with the crumbs, that fall 
from the tables of Time and Sense. 

Varieties. 1. Instead of dividing man- 
kind into the wise and foolish, the good and 
wicked, would it not be better to divide them 
into more or less wise and foolish, moi-s or 
less good or wicked '.' 2. It was a proof of 
low origin, among the ancient Romans, to 
make mistakes in pronouncing words ; for it 
indicated that one had not been instructed by 
a nursury maid: what is the inference? 
That those maids were well educated; par- 
ticularly, in the pronunciation of the Latin 
language, and were treated by families as 
favorites. How many nursery maids of our 
day enjoy such a reputation, and exert such 
an influence. 2 Indeed, how many mothers 
occupy such a pre-eminence? Let wisdom 
and affection answer, and furnish the remedy. 
3. The purest and best of precepts and ex- 
amples should be exhibited to our youth, in 
the development of their minds, and tl e for» 
mation of their characters. 

The seas— are quiet, when the winds are o'er; 
So, calm are we, when passions— are no more ; 
For then, we know how vain it was — to boast 
Of fluting things, so certain to be lost. 
Clouds of affliction — from our younger eyes, 
Conceal that emptiness, that age descries : 
The soul's dark cottage, hatter d and decay'd, 
Lets in tick; light, through chinks, tli.it time las «a*:»» 



I6U 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



448. The Human Voice. Among all 
the wonderful varieties of artificial instru- 
ments, which discourse excellent music, 
where shall we find one that can be compared 
to the human voice ? And where can we 
Bad an instr jment comparable to the human 
mind? upon whose stops the real musician, 
the poet, and the orator, sometimes lays his 
hands, and avails himself of the entire com- 
pass of its magnificent capacities .' Oh ! the 
length, the breadth, the height, and the depth 
of music and eloquence. ! They are high as 
heaven, deep as hell, and &road as the uni- 
verse. 

THE POWER OF IMAGINATION. 

['he lunatic, the lover, and the j?oe£, 

Are. of imagination — all compact : 

One — sees more devils — than vast hell can hold ; 

That — is the madman : the lover, all as frantic, 

Bees Helen's heauty — in a brow of Egypt : 

The r-OET's eye. in a hnefrenzy rolling, [heaven; 

Doth glance from heaven — to earth, from earth — to 

And, as imagination — bodies forth 

The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen, 

Forms them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing, 

A. local habitation, and a name. 

449. Cicero and Demosthenes. An 
orator, addressing himself more to the pas- 
sions, naturally has much passionate ardor : 
whilst another, possessing an elevation of 
ityle and majestic gravity, is never cold, 
though he has not the same vehemence: 
13a this respect do these great orators differ. 
Demosthenes — abounds in concise sublimity; 
Cicero, — in diffaseness : the former, on ac- 
count of his destroying, and consuming ev- 
erything by his violence, rapidity, strength, 
and vehemence, may be compared to a hurri- 
cane, or thunderbolt : the latter, to a wide 
extended conflagration, spreading in every 
direction, with a great, constant, and irre- 
sistible flame. 

Anecdote. Envy and Jealousy. Colonel 
Thornton, of the British army, could not bear 
to hear the Americans praised. When he 
was at Charleston, S. C, some ladies were 
eulogising Washington ; to which he replied, 
with a scornful air, " I should be very glad to 
Kcta sight of your Col. Washington; I have 
heard much talk about him, but have never 
keen Mm." " Had you looked behind you, at 
the battle of Cowpcns," rejoined one of the 
lailies, "you might easily have enjoyed that 
pleasure." 

Wth illustration jimpje, yet profound, and with unfaltering zeal 

{lit sjiabe from a warm heart, and made even cold hearts /ec// 

Ti.ii— is eloquence— 'tis the intense, 

frr passioned fervor — of a mind, deep fraught 

'•Vith mt.ve ene. ru, when soul, and sense 

Curst forth, embodied in the burning thought ; 

When look, emotion, tone, and all combine; 

When ;h; whole tna/t — is eloquent with mind; 

A f'srx that comes not to the call or quest, 

Bit Iran the gifte I soul, and the deep feeling breast. 
The farmers patient care— and toil 
Are oftener v: anting — than the soil, 



Maxims. 1. Blind men must not undeitiVe fa 
judge of colors, 2. Gamesters and race-horses nev- 
er last long. 3. Forgiveness and smiles are the 
best revenge. 4. They, are not our best friends, 
who praise us to our faces. 5. An honest man's 
word is as good as Ins bond. 6. Never Jkk for 
praise; it is not worth the bait. 7. None bat a 
good man can become a perfect orator. 8. CultU 
rate a love of truth, and cleave to it wilt all your 
heart. S. Female delicacy is the best pre* in- alive 
of female honor. 10. Idleness is the Klujje of 
weak minds, and the holliday of fools. 

T2ie Trine in Man. There are three 
things of which human beings consist, the 
soul, the mind and the body ; the inmost ia 
the soul, the mediate is the mind, and the 
ultimate the body : the first is that which re- 
ceives life from Him, who is life itself; the 
second, is the sphere of the activities of that 
life ; and the third, is the medium through 
which those activities are manifested: but it 
should be remembered, that there is, as the 
apostle says, " a natural body, and there is 
a spiritual body." 

Varieties. 1. Nature — makes no emen- 
dations; she labors for all. ■ her's is not mo- 
saic work. 2. The more there is prosaic in 
orators, poets and artists, the less are they 
natural; the less do they resemble the copi- 
ous streams of the fountain. 3. The more 
there is of progression, the more there is of 
truth, and nature ; and the more extt nsive, 
general, durable, and noble is the effect: 
thrfs is formed the least plant, and the most 
exalted man. 4. Nature is everywhere sim- 
ilar to herself; she never acts arbitrarily^ 
never contrary to her laws : the same Luis' 
dom and power produce all varieties, ugreeac 
ble to one law, one will. Either all thing* 
are subject to the law of order, or nothing is 

Home.' how that Hissed word — thrills the ear* 

In it — what recol'xtions blend ! 
It tells of childhood's scenes so dear, 

And speaks — of many a cherished /ne»<< 
O! through the world, where'er we r^'i, 

Though souls be pure — and lips be kind, 
The heart — w\\h fondness — turns to home, 

Still turns to those— \l left behind. 
The bird, that soars to yonder skies, 

Though nigh to heaven, still seems unblessed ; 
It leaves them, and with raptwe flies 

Downward — to its own much-\oved 7iest. 
Though beauteous scenes — may meet its view, 

And breezes blow — from balmy groves, 
With wing untired — and bosom true, 

It turns — to that dear spot it loves. 
When heaven — shall bid this soul depart, 

This form — return to kindred earth, 
May the last throb, which swells my heart, 

Heave, where it started into birtli. 
And should affection — shed one teat , 

Should friendship — linger round my U/mh; 
The tribute will be doubly dear, 

When given by those of "heme, sweet loroe." 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



16? 



450. Poetry — may be written in rhyme, 
or .) iuik verse. Rhyme is the correspbnd- 
«uw <\ sounds, in the ending of two (or 
HU're successive or alternate words or sylla- 
' ikv of i wo or more lines, forming a couplet 
jr triplet: see the various examples given. 
Ki/thmus, in the poetic art, means the rela- 
tive duration of the time occi pied in pro- 
nouncing the syllables; in the art of music 
it siguities the relative duration of the sound, 
thai enters into the musical composition: 
eee measures of speech and song. 
Lo ! the poor Indian, — whose untutored mind, 
Sees God in clouds, or htars him in the wind: 
His soul proiul science — never taught to stray 
Fai as the solar walk, or milky way; 
Yet. simple nature to his hope has given, 
Behind the cloud- topp'd Iiill. an humble heanm;— 
Some safer world — ill depth of ivood embraced, 
Some happier island — in the watery waste; 
Where slaves, once more, their native land behold. 
No fiknds torment — no christians thirst for gold. 

431. Skips and Slides, By closely ob- 
serving the movements of the voice, when 
under the perfect command of the mind, you 
will see that it changes its pitch, by leaps of 
one or more notes, in passing from word to 
word, and sometimes from syllable to sylla- 
ble, and also slides upwards and downwards ; 
which skips and slides are almost infinitely 
diversified, expressing all the shades of tho't 
and feeling, and playing upon the minds of 
the listeners, with a kind of supernatural 
power, the whole range of tunes from grave 
lo gay, from gentle to severe. The worlds 
of mind and matter are full of music and 
oratory. 

Even age itself— is cheered with music; 
It wakes a glad remembrance of cur ijouth, 
C ills back past joys, and warms us into transports. 
Nature — is the glass — reflecting God, 
As. by the sea — reflected is the sun. 
Too glorious to be gazed on — in his sphere. 
The night 
Hath been to me — a more familiar face 
Than that ofman; and. in her starry shade 
Of dim, and solitary loveliness, 
I learned the language— of another world. 
Parting — they seemed to tread upon ihe air, 
Twin roses, by the zephyr blown apart, 
Only to meet again — more close, and share 
The inward fragrance — of each other's heart. 
N olliing — is made out of Nothing. 
'S-ood, in his "Book of Nature." contends, that 
"Jiere is no absurdity, in the supposition, of God 
creating something — out of nothing; and he main- 
tains, that the proposition, conveying this idea, is 
only relatively absurd, and not absolutely. Em it 
is absolutely absurd. When God said, " Let there 
be light, and there was light." light cannot be said 
to have been created out of nothing, but from God 
himself; not out of God, tut by his Divine Will, 
through :iis Divine Truth. So, we may conceive, 
that God. by his Will, made atmospheric matter, 
tnd then created it in form. 

Emm ; i to live in tempest; die in port. 



Maxims. 1. It is be fter to do and not prom- 
ise, than to promise and not perform. 2. A benefit 
is a common tie between the giver and receiver 
3. The consciousness of well doing is an ample re- 
uird. 4. As benevolence is the most sociable of 
all virtues, so it is ihe most extensive. 5. Do not 
postpone until lo morrow, what ought to be done 
Xo-day. 6. Without a friend, the world is but a 
wilderness. 7. The more we know our hearts, the 
less shall we be disposed to trust it. ourselves. 8. 
Obedience is better than sacrifice, and is insepera- 
bly wedded to happiness. 9. We should not run 
cut of the path of duly, lest we rcn into the path 
of danger. 10. He doeth much, that doeth a thing 
well. 

Anecdote. Moro. duke of .Milan, having 
displayed before ihe foreign embassadors his 
magnificence and his riches, which excelled 
those of every other prince, said to them : 
" Has a man, possessed of so much wealth 
and prosperity, anything lo desire in this 
world?" " One t'hiig only,'" said one of 
them. " a nail to fix the wheel of fortune." 
' Swearing. Of all ihe crimes, that ever 
disgraced society, that of swearing admits of 
the least palliation. No possible benefit can 
be derived from it ; and nothing but perverse- 
ness and depravity of human nature, would 
ever have suggested it ; yet such is its pre- 
valence, that by many, it is mistaken for a 
fashionable acquirement, and considered, by 
unreflecting persons, as indicative of energy 
and decision of character. 

Varieties. 1. Duty sounds sweetly, to 
those who are in the love, and under the in- 
fluence of truth and goodness: its path does 
not lead thro 1 thorny places, and over cheer- 
less wastes; but winds . pleasantly, amid 
green meadows and shady groves. 2. A new 
truth is, to some, as impossible of discovery, 
as the new world was to the faithless cotem- 
poraries of Columbus; they do not believe in 
such a thing; and more than this, they will 
not believe in it: yet they will sit in judg- 
ment on those who do believe in such a con- 
traband article, and condemn them without 
mercy. 

THE FALLS OF NIAGARA. 

The thoughts are strange xhax crowd into my brain, 
While I look upward to thee. It would seem 
As if God— pour'd thee from his " hollow hand," 
And hung his boiv upon thine awful front ; 
And spoke, in that loud voice, which seem'd tohira 
"Who dwelt in Patmos — for his Saviours sake, 
"The sound of many waters;" and had bade 
Thy flood — to chronicle the ages bacK. 
And notch His centuries — in the eternal rocics. 

Deep — calleth unto deep. .And what are we, 
That hear the question — of that voice sublime 7 
O! what are all the notes, that ever rung 
From weerh vain trumpet, by thy thundering side. 
Yea, what is all the riot — man can make 
In his short life, to thy unceasing roar! 
And yet, bold babbler ivhat art thou — to Him 
Who drown'd a wona, and heaped the waters fal 
Above its loftiest mountains? — a light wave. 
That breaks, and whispers— of its Maker's might 

Say, what can Ch'.oe want? she wants a heart 



168 



PRINCIPLES OP ELOCUTION. 



452. ORsr.nvATiONS. Nr one can over 
necome a good reader, or speaker, by reading 
in a book; because what is thus acquired 
is more from thought than from feeling ; 
and of course, has less of freedom in it; 
and we are, from the necessity of the case, 
more or less constrained and mechanical. 
What we Jiear, enters more directly into the 
ajjcctuous part of the mind, than what we see, 
and becomes more readily a part of ourselves, 
i. e. becomes conjoined instead of being ad- 
joined: relatively, as the food which we eat, 
digests and is appropriated, and a plaster 
that is merely stuck, on the body. Thus, we 
can see a philosophic reason why faith is 
said to come by heanng, and that we walk 
by faith, and not by sight : i. e. from love, 
that casts out the fear that hath torment ; that 
fear which enslaves body and mind, instead 
of making both free. 

Ever distinguish substances— from sound; 
There is, in liberty, what gods approve ; 
And only men, like gods, have taste to share; 
There is, in liberty, what pride perverts, 
To serve sedition, and perplex command. 
True liberty — leaves all things free, but guilt; 
And fetters everything — but art, and virtue ; 
False liberty — holds nothing bound, but power, 
And lets loose — every tie, that strengthens law. 

Home — is man's ark, when trouble springs ; 

When gathering tempests — shade his morrow j 
And woman's love — the bird, that brings 

His peace-branch — o'er a flood of sorrow. 

453. CoxauERixG-LovE. To learn al- 
most any art, or science, appears arduous, or 
difficult, at first; but if we have a heart for 
any work, it soon becomes comparatively 
easy. To make a common watch, or a watch 
worn in a ring ; to sail over the vast ocean, 
&c, seems at first, almost impossible ; yet 
they are constantly practiced. The grand 
secret of simplifying a science is analyzing 
it; in beginning with what is easy, and pro- 
ceeding to the combinations, difficult, most 
difficult: by this method, miracles may be 
wrought : the hill of science must be ascend- 
ed step by step. 

Conceptions. Would it not be well for 
metaphysicians — to distinguish between the 
conception of abstract truth, and the conception 
of past perception, by calling the latter — mental 
perception, as contradistinguished from all other 1 
Anecdote. Rouge. A female, praising 
the beautiful color, used by the artist on her 
miniature, was told by him, that he did not 
doubt she was a woman of good taste ; for 
they both bought their rouge at the sarao shop. 
True philosophy discerns 
A ray of heavenly light — gilding all forms 
Terrestri il, — in the vast, the minute, 
The unambiguous footsteps of a God, 
Who gives his lustre — to an insert's wing, 
And wheels his throne, upon the rolling worlds. 



Maxims. 1. A people's education — is a na- 
tion's beat defence. 2. Let not the sun go Aiwn 
upon your wrath. 3. Who aims at excellence, 
will be above mediocrity ; and who aims at me- 
diocrity, will fall short of it. 4. Forbearance ig 
a domestic jewel. 5. The affection of parents ia 
best shown to their children, by teaching them 
what is good and true. 6. Feeble are the efforta 
in which the heart has no share. 7. By taking 
revenge, a man is but even with his enemy; but 
in passing it over — he is superior. 8. Loveliness 
needs not the aid of ornament; but is, when un- 
adorned, adorned the most. 9. No one ever diil, 
nor ever can, do any one an injury, without do- 
ing a greater injury to himself. 10. It is better 
not to know the truth, than to know it, and not 
do it. 

Pursuit of Knowledge. He, that en 
larges his curiosity after the works of nature, 
demonstrably multiplies the inlets to happi- 
ness; therefore, we should cherish ardor 
in the pursuit of useful knowledge, and re- 
member, that a blighted sj/ring makes a bar- 
ren year, and that the vernal flowers, how- 
ever beautiful and gay, are only intended by 
nature as preparatives to autumnal fruits. 

Varieties. I. Business letters should al- 
ways be written with great clearness and per- 
spicuity : every paragraph should be so 
plain, that the dullest fellow cannot mistake 
it, nor be obliged to read it twice, to under- 
stand it. 2. Lawyers and their clients re- 
mind one of two rows of persons at a fire ; 
one — passing full buckets, the other return- 
ing empty ones. 3. The bump of self-esteem 
is so prominent x>n some men's heads', that 
they can't keep their hats on in a windy day. 
4. A crow will fly at the rate of 20 miles an 
hour; a hawk, 40; and an eagle 80. 5. 
The heaviest fetter, that ever weighed down 
the limbs of a captive, is as the robe of the 
gossamer, compared with the pledge of a 
man of honor. 6. An envious person, wax- 
eth lean with the fatness of his neighbor. 7. 
Nature — supplies the raw material, and edu- 
cation — is the manvfacturer. 
The dumb shall sing, the lame his crutch forego, 
And leap, exulting, like the bounding roe. 
Distrustful sense with modest caution speakg ; 
It still looks home, and short excursions makes; 
But rattling nonsense in full volleys breaks. 
Come, gentle Spring, etherial mildness, come, 
And, from the bosom of yon dropping cloud. 
(While music wakes around.) vailed in a snowel 
Of shadowing roses, on the plains descend. 
The man, that dares traduce, because he can, 
With safety to himself, is not a man. 

Slander — meets no regards from noble mindi j 

Only the base — believe what the base utUr. 
If I lose mine honor, I lose myself; 
Mine honor — is my life ; both grow in one ; 
Take honor from me — and my life is done 
He was a man, take him for all in nil, 
I shall not IooV- Upon his like again. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



lv59 



#54. Inflections and Intonations. 

The author is perfectly satisfied, that most 
of his predecessors have depended entirely 
loo much upon the inflections, to produce 
variety, instead of upon the intonations of 
the voice : the former, invariably makes me- 
chanical readers and speakers; while the 
latter, being founded in nature, makes natu- 
ral ones : the one is of the head, and is the 
result of thought and calculation ; and the 
other of the heart, and is the spontaneous ef- 
fusion of the affections : the former spreads 
a t'iil before the mind; the latter takes it 
away. Is it not so? Choose ye. Nature 
knows a great deal more than art; listen to 
her teachings and her verdict. 

There are tivo hearts, whose movements thrill 
In unison, so closely sweet! * 
That, pulse to pulse, responsive still, 
That both must heave, or cease to beat ; 
There are two souls, whose equal flow 
In gentle streams — so calmly run, 
That when they part, (they part?) ah no ; 
They cannot part,— their souls are one. 
No marvel woman should love flowers, they bear 
So much of fanciful similitude 
To her cum history ; like herself, repaying, 
Willi such sweet interest, all the cherishing, 
That calls their beauty, and their sweetness forth; 
And. like her, too, dying— beneath neglect. 
455. Ignorance and Error. How fre- 
quently an incorrect mode of pronunci/ition, 
and of speaking, is caught from an ignorant 
nurse, or favorite servant, which infects one 
through life ! so much depends on first im- 
pressions and habits. Lisping, stammering, 
and smaller defects, often originate in the 
game way, and not from any natural defect, 
or impediment. If parents and teachers 
would consider the subject, they might see 
file importance of their trust, and he induced 
to fulfill their respective offices in a conscien- 
tious manner : to do wrong, in any way, is 
a sin. 

Association of Ideas. We may trace 
the power of association — in the growth and 
development of some of the most important 
principles of human conduct. Thus, under 
the feudal system, appeals from the baronial 
tribunals were first granted to the royal 
courts, in consequence of the delay, ox refusal 
of 'just he; afterwards, they were taken, on 
account of the injustice or iniquity of the 
sentence. In the same way, a power, ap- 
pealed to from necessity, is at length resorted 
to from choice ; till finally, what was once a 
privilege is, in certain cases, exacted as an ob- 
ligation. This principle is full of political 
and social wisdom, and cannot be too deeply 
studied by those, who wish to analyze the 
tauses and motives of human conduct. 
The purest treasure, — mortal ties afford, 
Is — spotless reputation ; that— away, 
Ms i are but gilded loam, and painted clay. 
22 



Maxims. 1. The wise man thinks he knows 
bul little; the fool thinks he knows it all. 2. He, 
who cannot govern himself, cannot govern others. 
3. He is a poor wretch, whose Lopes are confined 
to this world. 4. He, who employs himself well, 
can never want for something to do. 5. Umlragt 
should never be taken, where offence was never 
intended. 6. Deride not the unfortunate. 7. la 
conversation, avoid the extremes of talkatir-enett 
and silence. 8. Lawyers' 1 gowns are often lined 
with the willfulness of their clients. 9. Good \coie 
are the only paper currency, that is better than 
silver or gold. 10. No man may be both accuser, 
and judge. 11 . At every trifle — scorn to take ofTence. 

Anecdote. A Rose. A blind man, having 
a shrew for his wife, was told by one of his 
friends, that she was a rose. He replied, " I 
do not doubt it; for I feel the thorns daily." 

Laconics. He who would become dis- 
tinguished in manhood, and eminently useful 
to his country, and the world, must be con- 
tented to pass his boyhood and youth in ob- 
scurity, — learning that which he is to prac- 
tice, when he enters upon the stage of action. 
There are two kinds of education ; the liber- 
al and the servile; the former puts us in 
possession of the principles and reasbns of 
actions and things, so far as they are capable 
of being known or interrogated: the latter 
stops short at technical rules and methods, 
without attempting to understand the reasons 
or principles on which they are grounded. 

Varieties. 1. We may apprehend the 
works and word of God, if we cannot fully 
comprehend them. 2. A man passes, for 
what he is worth. The world is full of judg- 
ment-days; and into every assembly, that a 
man enters, in every action he attempts, he 
is guag'd and stamped. 3. It is bate, and 
that is the one base thing in the universe, to 
receive favor, and render none. 4. How shall 
we know, that Washington — was the most 
prudent and judicious statesman, that ever 
lived! By carefully observing his actions, 
and comparing them with those of other men, 
in like circumstances. 5. The union of science 
and religion, is the marriage of earth and heav- 
en. 6. Mankind can no more be stationary 
than an individual. 7. The virtue of women 
is often the love of reputation and quiet. 
.satan's supposed speech to his legions. 

Princes, Potentates, 
Warriors, the flower of Heaven ! once yours, now -Jolt, 
If such astcniishment as this— can seize 
Eternal spirits ; or have ye chosen this place, 
After the toil of tattle, to repose 
Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find 
To slumber here, as in the vales of Heaven ? 
Or, in this abject posture— have ye sworn— 
To adore the Conqueror ! who now behold* 
Cherub — and seraph — rolling in the flood, 
With scatter'd arms and ensigns ; til! anon 
His swift pursuers — from Heaven's gates — di»c«B 
The advantage, and descending, tread us down, 
Thus drooping, or with linked thunderbolt* 
Transfix us to the bottom of this gulf? 
jlwalte, ARISE, or be forever fallen 



70 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



45G. Thi Passions and Actions. The 
Daman mind we contemplate under two 
grand divisions, called Will and Understand- 
ing: the former is the receptacle, or conti- 
nent, of our passions, emotions, affections ; 
the latter — of our thoughts. To attend to 
the workings of mind, to trace the power 
that external objects have over it, to discern 
the nature of the emotions and affections, 
and to comprehend the reasons of their be- 
ing affected in a particular manner, must have 
a direct influence on our pursuits, character 
and happiness, as private citizens, and as 
public speakers. 

What nothiug earthly gives, or can destroy, 
The. soul's calm sunshine, and the heartfelt joy, 
li virtue's prize. 

In faith, and hope, the world will disagree; 
But all mankind's concern — is charity. 
He gave to mercy — all he had, a tear ; [friend. 
He gained from heaven, ( ; twas all he wished,) a 
In the faithful husbandman — you see, 
What all — true christian? — ought to be. 
Speak of me, as I am .• nothing extenuate, 
Nor set down aught — in malice. 
Honor, and shame, from no condition rise ; 
Act well your part, there all the honor lies. 

45 T. An accurate analysis of the passions 
and affections is, to the moralist, as well as 
the student in elocution, what the science of 
anatomy, and physiology is to the physi- 
cian and surgeon -. it constitutes the first 
principles of rational practice for both; it is, 
in a moral view, the anatomy of the heart; 
discloses why and how it beats; indicates 
appearances in a sound and healthy state, 
and detects diseases, with their causes, and 
is much more fortunate in applying remedies. 
Stages of Progress. Useful discoveries 
and improvements generally have four distinct 
stages in their progress to universality. The first 
is, when the theory is pronounced false, contrary to 
experience, absurd and unworthy of the attention 
of sensible men. The second is, when they are 
claimed as having been known before; thus, de- 
priving the medium — of all credit for more indus- 
try, discrimination and originality, than others. 
The third is, when they are denounced as perilous 
jinovations, endangering the religion and morals 
of society. The fourth is, when they are receiv- 
ed as established truths by every body ; the "only 
wonder being, that they should ever have been 
doubted, they are in such perfect harmony with 
jjt laws of the universe. 

The meek-ey'd morn appear*, mother of dews, 
Mfirit, faint glimmering— in the dappled tart; 
Till, far o'er ethsr— spreads the wid'ningftoio; 
And, from before the lustre of her fete, 
White break the clovdt away. With quicheri'd step, 
Brown night — retires ; young day pours in apace, 
And operjs all the lawnv prospect v. :Je. 
The dripping rock, the mount ji/i'j misty top, 
Swell on the sight, anJ brighten— with the dawn. 
If. on a sudden, he begins to rise, 
J\ r o r&an thai lives, can count his enemies. 



Laconics. I. All men, possessed of real 
power, are upright and honest: craft is hut th« 
substitute of power. 8. To answer leit by reason, 
is like trying to hold an eel by the tail. 3. Fre- 
quent intercourse often forms such a similarity, 
that we not only assure a mental likeness, but 
contract some, resemblance in voice and features. 
4. The more ideas included in our own words, and 
the more cases an axiom is applied to, the mora 
extensive and poiverful will they be. 5. The im- 
provement of die internal, will also he the im- 
provement of the external. 6. A little vice often 
deforms the whole countenance; as one singl* 
false trait in a portrait, makes the whole a rarri- 
caiure. 7. The noblest talents may rust in indo- 
lence ; and the most moderate, by industry, may be 
astonishingly improved. 

Anecdote. A Good Hint. A clergyman 
and Garrick the tragedian, were spending 
an evening together ; and among other top- 
ics of conversation, that of delivery was in- 
troduced. The man of the pulpit asked Gar- 
rick. " Why is it, you are able to produce so 
much more effect, with the recital of your^c- 
lions, than we do. by the delivery of the 
most important truths?" 1 The man of the 
stage replied — "My Lord, you speak truths, 
as if they were fictions ; we speak fictions, 
as if they were truths" 

Action. To do an ill action is base ; to 
do a good one, which involves you in no dan- 
ger, is nothing more than common ; but it is 
the property of a truly good man, to do great 
and good things, though he risk everything 
by it. 

Varieties. 1. The coin, that is most, cur- 
rent among mankind — is flattery: the only 
benefit of which is, that by hearing what we 
are ?wt,we may be instructed what we o'tght 
to be. 2. Bring the entire powers of /our 
mind, to bear on whatever study you under- 
take, with a singleness of purpose, and you 
will not fail of success. 3. The predomi- 
nance of a favorite study, affects ail the sub- 
ordinate purposes of the intellect. 4. Vex 
not thy heart, in seeking — what were far bet- 
ter unfound. 5. In reference to certain prin 
ciples and persons, unstable people cry out, 
at first, "All hatl, " — but afterwards, 
"crucwy! crucify!" 6. Luxury is an 
enticing pleasure, which hath honey in hei 
mouth, but gall in her heart, and a sting in 
her embrace. 7. Let your rule of action be, 
to perform, faithfully, and without solicitude, 
the duty of the present hour; let the futurk 
take care of itself. 

T\oo tasks are ours, to know — and understand, 
Evil, and good, and name their various band; 
But worthier far, with chp.erful will, to clioost 
Whate'er is good, and all the ill — re/rue. 
Why all this toil — for triumphs of an hour? 
What though we wade in wealth, or soar in/nm*/ 
Earth's higliest station ends in — " Here he Iks:" 
And — "dust — to dust''— concludes her nobksl song. 

Virtue itself, 'scapes not calunuijcu* stroke*. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



171 



458. The Passions. There are three 
things involved in the exhibition of the pas- 
§io7is; viz. the tones of the loice, the appear- 
ance of i lie countenance, and rhetorical ac- 
tion; tho first is addressed to the ear only, 
the latter 10 (he eye. Here, then, is another 
language to !earn,'afier the pupil has learned 
the written, and the vocal languages: how- 
ever, the language of the passions may be 
said to be written — by the hand of Nature. 
Contemplate the passions separate!;/, and 
:omhmcd, and seek for examples to illus- 
irate tnem. 

For praise, loo dearly loved, or warmly sought, 
Enfeebles all interna* strength of thought; 
And the weak, within itself unhle&l, 
lieans, for ali pleasures, on another^ breast. 
Friendship, like an evergreen, 

Will brave the inclement blast, 
And still retain the bloom of spring, 

When summer days — are past; 
And tho" the wintry sky should Lower, 

And dim the cheerful day, 
She still perceives a vital power, 
Unconscious — of decay. 
Jealousy! thy own rrreen food, 
Thy joy — is vengeance, death, and blood! 
Thy love — is ivrath! thy breath — is sighs! 
Thy life— suspicious sacrifice! 

459. Truth. Some men say, that " wealth 
is power"' — and some that " talent — is power"' — and 
gome that -knowledge — is power" — and otliers. 
that -'authority — is power" — but there is an apo- 
thegm, thai I would place on high above them all. 
-when I assert, that, -'truth — is power." Wealth 
cannot purchase, talent — cannot refute, knowledge 
— cannot over-reach, authority — cannot silence 
Iter; they all. like Felix, tremble at her presence: 
cast her into the sevenfold heated furnace of the 
tyrant's wrath — fling her inio the most tremend- 
ous billows of popular commotion — she mounts 
aloft in ihe ark — upon the summit of the deluge. 
She is the ministering spirit, who sheds on man 
that bright and indestructible principle of life, 
■which is given, by its mighty antho r . to illumin- 
ate and to inspire the immortal soul— and which, 
like himself, '-is the same yesterday, to-day, and 
forererp 

The wintry blast of death — 
Kills not the buds of virtue; no: they spread 
Beneath the heavenly beams — of brighter suns, 
Through endless ages — into higher powers. 
The scale of being — is a graduated thing; 
And deeper. — than the vanities of power. 
On the vain pomp of glory — there is writ — 
Gradation — in its hidden characters. 

EPITAPH. 

Here rests his head — upon the lap of earth, 

A youth— to fortune and to fame unknown; 
Fair science— frowned noi — on his humble birth, 
Aid melancholy — mark'd him for her own. 
A dandy — is a thing. \\r.\l would 
Be a young lady — if he could; 
But. as he canH. does all he can, 
To show the world — he's not a man. 
The course of true love — uev ;r did run smooth. 



Maxims. 1. A well instructed people, only, 
can be a free people. 2. To ask for a Icing , vith- 
out labor, would be to ask for a curse, instea.l of a 
blessing. 3. No one loot s after his own affairs, as 
well as himself. 4. Fruitless advice is like pour- 
ing water on a duck's back. 5. The more our tal- 
ents are exercised, the more will they become de- 
veloped. 6. Unless the laws are executed on the 
great, they will not be obeyed. 7. He, wl:o toils 
with pain, will reap with pleasure. 8. The tor- 
menl of envy — is like Zand in the eye. 9. Laziness 
often gives occasion to dishonesty. 10. The error 
of an hour — mav become the sorrow of a whole 
life 

Anecdote. Father Aurius said, when 
Bourdaloue preached at Rouen, the trades- 
men forsook their workshops, the lawyer* 
their clients, and the physicians their sick> 
to hear the orator: but when / preached 
there, the following year, I set ail things 
right; every man minded his own busbiess. 

Luxury. When I behold a fashionable 
table, set out in all its magnificence, I fancy 
that I see gouts and dropsies, fevers and leth- 
argies, with other innumerable distempers, 
lying in ambuscade among the dishes. Na- 
ture delights in the most plain and simple 
diet. Every animal, but man, keeps to one 
dish. Herb" are the food of this species, fish 
of that, and flesh of a third. Man falls upon 
every thing that comes in his way; not the 
smallest fruit or excrescence of the earth, 
scarce a berry or a mushroom can escape him. 

Varieties. 1. Without exertion and dili- 
gence, success in the pursuits of life, is rarely 
attained. 2. It is the business of the judge 
to decide as to the points of law, and the 
duty of the jurors — to decide as to the mat- 
ters of fart. 3. The essence of our liberty 
is — to do whatever we please, provided we 
do not violate any law, or injure another. 
4. A handful of common sense is worth a 
bushel of learning. 5. Feu> things are more 
injurious to our health and constitution, than 
indulgence in luxuries. 6. Did God. after 
creating the universe, and putting it in mo- 
tion, leave it to itself? 7. Credit — is of in- 
estimable value, whether to a nation, or an 
individual. 

THE Mi:\TSTKY OF ANGELS. 

And is there care in heaven? and is there love 
In heavenly spirits — to these creatures base, 

That muy compassion of their evils move? [caso 
There is : else, much more wretched were tho 
Of men than beasts. But, oh ! the exceeding grace 

Of highest Heaven! that loves his creatures so: 
Ar;d all his works — with mercy dolh embrace, 

That blessed angels he sends to and fro, 

To serve to wicked man, — to serve, his wicked./©* 

How oft — do they their silver bowers leave, 
To come to succo" us. that succor want! 

How oft — do they, with golden pinions, cleave 
The Bitting skies, like Hying pursuivant, 
Against foul fiends — to aid asmilitant! 

They for nsfght. they watch and duly ward, 
And iheir bright squadrons round about us plaa^ 

And all for love, and nothing for reward: 

Oh! xoAj/ should the Lord lo man have such rcguftl 



172 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION 



TRANQUILLITY, &x. 




460. Tiatqu"- 
lUy appeals by the 

open and coinpos- 
ed countenance, 
and a general re- 
pose of the whole 
body; mouth near- 
ly dosed ; eye- 
brows a little 
arched; f o r e- 
head smooth; eyei 
passing with an 
easy motion, from 
one object to 
another, but not 
dwelling long on 
iny ; cast of hap- 
piness, bord ring 
on cheerfulness; 
desiring to please and be pleased ; gaitv, good 
humor, when the mouth opens a little more. 

CHEERFULNESS IN RETIREMENT. 

Now my co-mates, and brothers in exile, 
Hath not old custom — made this life more sweet, 
Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods 
More free from peril, than the envious court? 
Here— feel we but the penalty of Adam ; 
The season's difference ; as the icy fang, 
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind ; 
Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, 
Ev'n till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, 
This is no flattery ; these are counsellors, 
That feelingly persuade me what I am: 
Sweet— are the uses of adversity, 
That, like a toad, ugly and venomous, 
Wears yet a precious jewel in its head. 
And this our life, exempt from public haunts, 
Finds tongues, in trees, books, in running brooks, 
Sermons in stones, and good in everything. 

Miscellaneous. 1. Timidity — often ob- 
scures the brightest powers of orators, at 
their outset ; like the chilling vapor, awhile 
retarding the beauty of a morning in spring; 
but the day of success, attained by persever- 
ing efforts, when it corncs, will well repay for 
its late appearance, and its splendor more 
than atone for its morning shade. 2. By tak- 
ing in the widest possible range of authors of 
all ages, one seems to create, within himself, 
a sympathy for the whole brotherhood of 
man, past, present, and to come, and to ap- 
proximate continually, to a view of Univer- 
sal Truth, tho' never attaining it. 3. All 
good speakers and writers, are addicted to 
imitation : no one — can write or speak well, 
who has not a strong sympathy with, and ad- 
miration for — all that is beautiful. 

Anecdote. A Pun. Purcell, the famous 
tmnster, being desired, one evening, when in 
company, to make an extempore pun, asked, 
u on what subject ?" " The king ; " was the 
answer. "0 sir," said he, "the king is not 
t iubjed." 

I ha-.e to Bee a boy— so rude, 

That one might think him— raised 
In some wild region of the wood, 
And but half-c\vi)\zed. 



Maxims. 1. The follies we tell of other*, 
are often only mirrors to reflect our own. t. 
Righteousness — exaltcth a nation; but sin — la a 
reproach to any people. 3. The bat mode o. 
dealing with a quarrelsome person, is, to keep 
out of his way. 4. Good thought, couched in an 
appropriate simile, is like a precious stone, set in 
gold. 5. Great minds may produce great tires, 
as well as great virtues ; an honest man — is the 
noblest work of God. 6. Nature, and natural 
causes, are nothing else, than the way in which 
God works. 7. 'Tis use that constitutes posses- 
sion. 8. No sooner is a law made, than the wick- 
ed seek to evade it. 9. One lie draws ten mort 
after it. 10. Idleness— buries a man alive. 

Irresolution. In matters of great con- 
cern, and which must be done, there is no 
surer argument — of a weak mind, than irre- 
solution ; to be undetermined, where the 
case is so plain, and the necessity so urgent. 
To be always intending to live a new life, 
but never to find time to set about it ; this is 
as if a man should put off eating, and drink- 
ing, and sleeping, from one day and night to 
another, till he is starved and destroyed. 

Varieties. 1. Every evil, that we con- 
quer, is a benefactor to our souls. The Sand- 
wich Islander believes that the strength and 
valor of the enemy he kills, passes into him- 
self. Spiritually, it is so with us ; for we 
gain strength, from every temptation we 
resist. 2. It is absurd, to think of becoming 
good, in any thing, without understanding 
and practicing what we learn. 3. Have we 
life of our own ? or, are we dependent on 
God for it, every moment of our lives \ 7. 
All the moments of our lives, produce eter 
nal consequences. 

How sweet — the words of truth, 
Breathed from the tips — we love. 
One alone 
May do the task of many, when the mind 
Is active in it. 

Coxcombs — are of all realms, and kind, 
They're not to sex, or age confined, 
Of rich, or poor, or great, or small, 
'Tis vanity — besets them all. 

True happiness — had no localities ; 
No tones provincial ; no peculiar garb. 
Where duty went, she went ; with justice went | 
And went with meekness, charity, and love. 
Where'er a tear was dried ; a wounded .Vart 
Bound up ; a bruised spirit — with the dew 
Of sympathy anointed ; or a pang 
Of honest suffering soothed ; o: injury, 
Repeated oft, as oft— by love— forgiven ; 
Where'er an evil passion was subdued. 
Or Virtue's feeble embers fanned ; where'er 
A sin was heartily abjured, and left ; 
Where'er a pious act was done, or breathed 
A pious prayer, or wished a pious wish- 
There — was a high — and holy place, a spot 
Of sacred li^ht, a most religious fane. < 

Faith— is not built — or. disquisition's nine, 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



173 




JOY ; DELIGHT 
461. Joy, 
a pleasing: ela- 
tion of mind 
on the actual 
or assured at- 
tainment of 
good ; or de- 
li VLra nee from 
some evil. 
When moder- 
ate, 11 opens 
the count e- 
nance with 
smiles, and 
throws a sun- 
shine of delec- 
tation over the 
whole frame ; 
when sudden 
nnd violent, it 
:s expressed by clapping the hands, exultation 
and weeping, raising- the eyes to heaven, and per- 
haps suffusing them with tears, and giving such a 
Boring to the body, as to make attempts to mount 
up as if it could fly : and when it is extreme, goes 
into transport, rapture, and ecstasy; the voice 
often raises on very high pitches, and'exhilarating; 
it has a wildness of look and gesture that borders 
on folly, madness and sorrow ; hence the expres- 
sion, •• frantic with joy." Joy, mirth, &c, produce 
a rousing, exciting, lively action. 

JOY EXPECTED. 

Ah! Juliet, if the measure%f thy joy 
Be heaped, like mine, and that thy skill be more 
To blazen it, then sweeten, with thy breath, 
This neighbor air, and let rich music's tongue 
Unfold the imagin'd happiness, that both 
Receive, in either, by this dear encounter. 

See! my lord, [veins 
Would you not deem it breathed, and that those 
Did verily bear blood? O sweet Paulina, 
Make me think so twenty years together ; 
No settled senes of the world can match 
The pleasure of that madness. 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

Talents — angel-h right, 
If wanting worth, 
Are shining instruments 
In false ambilion : s hand— to finish faults 
Illustrious, and give to infamy renown. 
Tis easiest— dealing with the firmest mind. [kind. 
More just, when it resists, and when it yields, more 
A mirror — has been well defined — 
An emblem — of a thoughtful mind , 
For, look upon it — when you will, 
You find — it is refecting still. 
Life — is a sea, where storms must rise ; 
'TIS folly— talks of cloudless skies ; 
He. who contracts his swelling sail, 
Eludes the fury of the ga& 
Anecdote. A painter — was employed in 
painting a ship, on a stage, suspended under 
bar stern. The captain, who had just got 
into the boat to go ashore, ordered the cabin 
uoy to let go the painter. The boy went aft, 
and let go the rope by which the painter's 
stage was held. The captain, surprised at 
fttf! boy's delay, cried out," Confound you for 
ft lazy dog; why dont you let go the paint- 
er?'' " He's gone sir," replied the boy, 
"pots and all." 

p2 



Maxims* 1. The abuse of rr.tmey is worse 
than the leant of it. 2. Revenge is v. mean plea- 
sure ; hut no principle is more noble, than that of 

forgiving injuries. 3. Wilhout/Wsrcds, the world 
is but a icilderness. 4. Flattery to ourselves — does 
not change the nature of that which is wrong. 5 
When a man is not liked, whatever he does is 
amiss. 6. If a man is unfortunate, and reduced :n 
the world, it is easy to find fault with him. 7. A 
pure heart makes the tongue impressive. 8. h 
man's best fortune, or his toorst — is a wife. tJ 
Health is better than wealth. 10. Unexperienced 
persons think all things easy. 

Free Schools ; or the road to Tlonoropen 
to all. When the rich man — is called from 
the possession of his treasures, he divides 
them as he wills, among his children and heirs. 
But an equal Providence deals not so with 
the living treasures of the mind. There are 
children, just growing up in the bosom of 
obscurity, in town and country, who have in- 
herited nothing but poverty and health, and 
who will, in a few years, be striving, in stern 
contention, with the great intellects of the 
land. Our system of free schools, has opened 
a straight way from the threshold of every 
abode, however humble, in the village, or in 
the city, to the high-places of usefulness, in- 
fluence and honor. And it is left for each, 
by the cultivation of every talent, by watch- 
ing, with an eagle-eye, for every chance of 
improvement ; by bounding forward like a 
gray-hound, at the most distant glimpse of 
honorable opportunity ; by grappling, as witla 
hooks, the prize, when it is won ; by redeem- 
ing time, by defying temptation, and scorn- 
ing sensual pleasures ; to make himself use- 
ful, honored and happy. 

Varieties. 1. God, who loveth all his 
creatures, and is no respecter of persom, 
would have us be good for our own sakes. 

2. What is the difference, between the love 
of being wise, and the love of wisdom? 

3. Every age has its own predominant 
features, taste and propensities, that each 
may be fitted, and inclined, to discharge the 
offices allotted to it. 4. God has planted in 
the irrational brute, memory, sense, and ap- 
petite ; but to rational man — he has given 
all these, and superadded thought, intelli- 
gence, will, immortal reason, and undying af- 
fection. 5. All orders of good and truth ar« 
capable of an infinite display of the varieties, 
proper to that order ; and of an infinite mul? 
tiplication of each. 

Music ! thou rest of life, and balm of age, 
To cr.eer man's path — through this dark pilg-xmagt. 
In every state— be thou my partner made : 
By night, by day, it sunshine, acd in shade; 
Teach me, ^ile here, the strain that angeh sing, 
From hearts devout, to Heaven's Eternal King; 
Tune my last breath— with pure seraphic lao^ 
And hymn my passage— to the choir above. 
So very still, that echo — seems to listen ; 
We almost hear— the music of the spheres, 
And fancy, that 'vc cakh the notes of atgel*. 



174 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



MIRTH. JOLLY LAUC.HTKR. 




4«2. When 
del i; i- n rises 
from Indie rout 
OT fug I ve amuse- 
ment, in which 
others share with 
us, ii is called 

MIRTH : Al'CIITKR 

or ^ rbwmbnt; 
which opens the 
Bfi o 'i i h horizon- 
tally, shrivels the 
nose, raises the 
cheeks high les- 
sens die aperture 
cf the eyes, and 
fills them with 
tears 



INVOCATION OF THE GODDESS OF MIRTH. 

I3ul come, thou goddess, fair and Tree, 

In heav"n yelep'd Euphosyiie; 

Anil of men — heart-easing mirth; 

Whom lovely Venus bore : 

Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee 

Jest and youthful Jolity, 

Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, 

Nodi, and becks and wreathed smiles, 

Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, 

And love to live in dimple sleek ; 

Sport, lhal wrinkled Care derides. 

And Laughter, holding both his sides; 

Come, and trip it as you n^o 

On die light tantastie toe. 

A id in thy light hand — lead with thee 

T. e moitnta in- nymph, sweet Liberty. 
MIRTH AND MELANCHOLY. 
Now by t'vo-headed Janus. 
Nam e hath framed strange fellows in her times; 
Some, thai will evermore peep through their eyes, 
And laugh like parrots at a tag-piper; 
And others — of such vinegar aspect, 
That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, 
Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. 

4«3. Theatres. If the lofty powers of 
the matter tragedian were concentrated to 
the development of mind, in the presence 
of those, only, who can appreciate his gen- 
ius ; if the public display of them, on the 
stage, were unaccompanied by any of those 
excressences, which cling, incubus-like, to 
modern theatres ; the evil of which the phi- 
lanthropist and patriot complain, would 
seem to be trifling. But when he throws 
himself in the midst of such scenes, as he 
must necessarily meet, in all the theatres of 
the present day, he gives the sanction of his 
pretence, his example and reputation, to 
some of the most monstrous abuses, which 
cost among men. Although his moral char- 
acter may be irreproachable, yet a man is al- 
ways known by the company Jie keeps; and, 
in. spite of himself and his' friends, he is 
identified nrith all the theatres, in which lie 
performs: his character is assimilated to his 
debased associates, who boast af his society ; 
• id ape liis greatness. It is because he is 



among them, that they arc countenanced bf 

so large a portion of the American people. 

Maxims. I. He. thm hearkens to counsel, It 
wise, ii, Courage — ought to have eyes, and tan, 
as well as arms. 3. Credit, iost. is like a broken 
foo&mg-glass. 4. Ii is stMM to do good unseen 
and ill secret. 5. Nature — unites the beautiful with 
the useful: hence, handsome is, that handsome 
does. (>. The mob hath many heads, but no brains. 
7. A supemrmnd cares but little about rfr««. pro- 
vided it he decent. 8. The world — is a large and 
interesting 'vnofc. and is opened lo us day and 
night, i). Vanity — renders beamy contemptible. 
10. IWs. made in storms, are forgotten in calms; 
because they are the offspring of fear. 

Anecdote. Play upon words. A pool 
drunken loafer — was picked up in the street, 
by the watchman, when the following decis- 
ion was made: There is no sense in his head, 
no cents in his pocket, and a powerful scertf 
in his breath: he was of course sen/ to the 
wafchhouse. 

The Feet. There are seven bones in the 
ankle, five in the metatarsus, and fourteen 
phalanges in the foot, which are strongly fas- 
tened together by means of a grijstk, which 
yields — so as to enable us to tread, with equal 
ease, on level or unequal surfaces. We often 
hear of the small ieet of the Chinese ladies-, 
and we also see some ladies in a christian 
land who try to make themselves heathens, 
by wearing a very small shoe, under the false 
notion, that it is genteel to have small feet. 
Genteel to have corns, impeded circulation, 
and all their train of horrors! Oh, when 
shall we come to our senses, leave off tight 
shoes, and cease to worship the god of fash* 
ion? 

VARIETIES. 

Like die lily, 

That once was mistress of {he f eld, 

I'll hang my lieail, and perish. 

Her suny locks 

Hang on her temples, like a golden feece. 
She looks as clear, 

As morning roses, newly washed with dew. 
There's nothing in the world can make me joy ; 
Life — is as tedious — as a twice-told tale, 
Vexing the dull ear of drowsy man. 
Love is blind, '&^\ lovers cannot see 
The petty /o/Z/es, that themselves commit. 
How far that little candle throws his beams.' 
So — shines a good deed — ill this naughty world. 
Penetration — has an aid of divination. 

HONESTY. 
Thou art full of love and honesty, 
And weigh 'st thy words before thou giv'st them breat\ 
Therefore, these slvjn o| thine frijlit me the morei 
For such thinm, in a false disloyal knave, 
Are trick* of custom ; but, in a man that's jus*, 
They are close denotements, working from the heart, 
That passions cannot rule. 
Gold, silver, vases sculptur'd high, 
Paif.l, niarilc, gems, and robes of Persian dye. 
There are, who have not, and, thank heaven ! th<srt v\ 
Who, if they h*ve n t think not worth their caic 



I 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



175 




ECb'l IS*", RAPTURE, &c. 
404. Ec- 
stasy. Rap- 
ruRK, Trans- 
port, express 
an extraor- 
dinary eleva- 
tion of the 
spirits, an ex- 
cessive ten- 
sion of mind: 
they signify 
to be out of 
one' j »:If. out 
ofot: ■'» mind, 
carried away 
ueyc ml one's 
self. Ecsta- 
»Y— benumbs 
the faculties, 
tak>s away the power of speech, and sometimes 
of thought; it is generally occasioned by sudden 
and unexpected events: but rapture often :nv g- 
orates the powers and calls them into action. 
The former, is common to all persons of anient 
feelings; especially, children, &c, the illiterate: 
the latter is common to persons of superior minds, 
and circumstances of peculiar importance. 

What followed, was all ecstasy, and trances: 

Immortal pleasures round my swimming eyes did dance. 

Bv swift decrees, the love of nature works, 

And warms the bosom, till at last, sublim'd 

To rapture and enthusiastic huit, 

We feci the present Deity. 

Scorns the base earth and crowd below, 

And, with a peering- win$, still mounts on high. 

He pi vfd so sweetly, and so sweetly sung, 

That on each note the enraptur'd audience hung. 

465. Garrick. It is believed, that this 
tragedian greatly surpassed his predecessors , 
in his genius for acting, in the sweetness and 
variety of his tones, the irresistible magic of 
his eye, the'fire and vivacity of his action, 
the elegance of his attitudes, and the whole 
pathos of expressio?i. The cause of which 
-success was. his intimate and practical 
knowledge of human nature. Example. A 
certain gentleman, on returning from the 
theatre, asked his postillion, (who sat in his 
private box,) what he thought of the great 
Mr. Garrick. " Not much, my lord," was 
his reply, "for he talked and acted just like 
John and / in the stable." When this was 
repeated to the tragedian, he declared it the 
greatest compliment ever paid him:- for, 
said he, if nature's own children can't dis- 
tinguish me from themselves, it is a pretty 
sure indication that I am about right. 

RAPTURES. 

Bat, m her temple's lasl recess inclos'd, 
On duUnes*> lap, th' aimointed head repos'd. 
Him ciose the curtains round — with vapors blue, 
Ami soft b:sprinkles — with Cimmerian dew; 
Then rapti.res high — the seat of sense o'erflow, 
Which only heads — refin'd from reason, know ; 
Hence, from the straw, where Bedlam's prophet 
He hears loud oracles, and talks with gods : [nods, 
Hence, the fool's paradise, the statesman's scheme, 
The air-built castie, and the golden dream, 
The maid's romantic wish, the chemist's flame, 
And poet's vision of eternal fame. 
How dost thou wear, and weary out thy days, 
Restless ambition; never at an end. 



Maxims. I H * is rot wise, who is not wise 
for himself, it. If you wish a thing done, go; if ao*, 
send. 3. The siletice of tht. tongue is often the elo- 
quence of the heart. 4. The perfection of c.rt is, to 
conceal art. 5. Every day is a little life; and a 
whole life but a day repeated. G. We find it hard 
to forgive those, whom we have injured. 7 Fash- 
ionable women are articles manufactured by mil- 
liters ; 

They want but little— here below, 
And want that tittle — for a show. 
S. Do nothing you would wish to conceal. P. Ap- 
pearanc.es, are often deceiving. 10. Hie ha cannot 
purchase mental endowments. 

Anecdote. Look at Home. The advice 
of a girl, to Thul.es, a Milesian astronomer, 
was strong and practical. Seeing him gaz- 
ing at the heavens, as he walked along, and 
perhaps piqued, because he did not cast an 
eye on her attractions, she put a Stool in his 
path, over which he tumbled and broke his 
shins. Her excuse was, that she wanted to 
teach him, before he indulged himself in 
siar-gazing, to " look it home.' 1 '' 

VARIETUR. 

A proper judge — will lead eac^ work t'tvit, 
With the same spirit, Unit its au&Qr w<t. 
It comes o'er the ear, like the sweet so^ut wU<*, 
Which breathes upon a bank of violets. 
Stealing — and giving odor. 
Th'l mind and body — often sympathize 
Is plain: such — is tills union, nature ties; 
But then, as often too, they- disagree, 
Which proves — the soul's superior progenf. 
Yet this is Rome, 
That sat on her seven hills, and from her throff 
Of beauty — ruled the ivodd. 

Beware of desperate steps; the darkest day, 
(Live till to-morrow.) will have passed aiway. 
With pleasure — let us own our errors past, 
And make each day — a critic — on the last. 
Thinking — leads man to knowledge. 
He may see and hear, and read and learn 
whatever he pleases, and as much as he pleas- 
e-s : he will never know any thing of it, ex- 
cept that which he has thought over; that 
which, by thinking, he has made the pro- 
j perty of his mind. Is it then saying too 
much, that man, by thinking only, becomes 
truly man. Take away thought from man's 
life, and what remains ? 

'T was the bow of Omnipotence: bent in His hand, 
Whose grasp at creation the universe spann'd ; 
'T was the presence of God, in a symbol sublime; 
His vow from the flood to the esit of Time'. 
Not dreadful, as when in the vjhirhoind he pleade, 
When storms are his chariot, and lightnings his studs, 
The black clouds his banner of vengeance unfurl'd, 
And thunder his voice to a s-m'M-stricken world ; — 
Not such was the rainbow, that beautiful one ! 
Whose arch was refraction, its key-stone the naif 
Apavilion it seem'd, which the Deity graced, 
And justice and mercy met there, and embraced. 
Awhile, and it sweetly bent over the gloom, 
Like love o'er a tfi:af/i-couch, or hope o'er the t<mb 
Then left the dark scene ; whence it slowly retired ; 
As love had j»st vanished, or hope hail expired. 
Virtue, not rolling sw/is-7-tlie mini matures. 



176 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 




LOVE, &c. 
466. T.ove 
fives a soft se- 
renity to the 
countenance, a 
languishing to 
t li o eyes, a 
Bweetness to 
the voice, and a 
tenderness 
to the whole 
f r a me : fore- 
head smooth 
and enlarged ; 
eye-brows arch- 
ed ; month a 
little open; 
when entreat- 
ing, it clasps 
the hands, with 
intermingled fingers, to the breast; eyes lan- 
guishing and partly shut, as if floating on the ob- 
ject; countenance assumes the eager and wistful 
took of desire, but mixed with an air of satisfac- 
tion and repose ; accents soft and winning, voice 
persuasive, flattering, pathetic, various, musi- 
cal and rapturous, as in Joy : when declaring, 
the right hand, open, is pressed forcibly on the 
breast; it makes approaches with the greatest 
delicacy, and is attended with trembling hesi- 
tancy and confusion ; if successful, the counte- 
nance is lighted up with smiles ; unsuccessful 
love adds an air of anxiety and melancholy. 

467. To the above may be added, Shaks- 
peare's description of this affection, as given 
by the Good Shepherd, who was requested to 
tell a certain youth, what 'tis to love : 
It is to be all made of sighs and tears : 
It is to be all made of faith and service: 
It is to he all made of fantasy, 
All made of passion, and all made of wishes: 
All adoration, duty, and observance, 
All humbleness, all patience, and impatience, 
All purity, all trial, all observance. 

LOVE DESCRIBED. 

C?me hither boy ; if ever thou shalt love 
Iir. the sweet pangs of it remember me: 
For such as /am — all — true lovers are : 
Unstaid and skittish in all motions else ;\belov''d. 
Save in the constant image of the creature, that is 

LANGUISHING LOVE. 

O fellow, come, the song we had last night : 

Mark it Cesario ; it is old and plain ; 

The spinsters, and the knitters in the sun, [bones, 

And the free maids, that weave their threads with 

Do use to chant it; it is silly, sooth, 

And dallies with the innocence of love, 

Like to old age. 

Hail, wedded love, mysterious law, true source 

Oi human offspring, sole propriety 

In paradise, of all things common else I 

By thet adult'rous lust — was driv'n from men 

Among t.ie bestial herds to range ; by thee 

Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure, 

Relations dear, and all the charities 

Of father, son, and brother, first were known. 

Here, love his golden shafts employs, here lights 

His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings, 

lleigns here and revels : not in the bought smile 

in fairlots, loveless, joyless, unendear'd, 

Casual fruition ; not in court amours, 

Mix'd dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball. 



Maxims. I. We must strike whilo the iro* 
is hot ; but we must sometimes make the iron hot 
by striking. 2. Books are to the young, what 
capital is to the man of business. 3. It is not good 
husbandry, to make a child's fortune — great, and 
his mind — poor. 4. Some — excuse their ignorance, 
by pretending, that their taste lies in another di- 
rection. 5. Reading, makes a full man, and think- 
ing, a correct man. 6. Not the pain, but' the 
cause — makes the martyr. 7. Learn some useful 
art or trade, that you may be independent of th« 
caprice of fortune. 8. Nothing is harder for hon- 
est people, than to be denied the privilege of 
speaking their minds. 9. Some— are penny-wise, 
and pound-foolish. 10. A true friend sometime* 
ventures to be offensive. 

Anecdote. Two Lawyers. A wealthy 
farmer, being engaged in a law-suit against 
one of his opulent neighbors, applied to a 
lawyer, who happened to be engaged on tho 
opposite side,' but, who told him he would 
give him a recommendation to a professional 
friend,- which he did in the following lines : 
" Here are two fat wethers, fallen out together, 
If youHl fleece one, Pll fleece the other, 
And make them agree like brother and brother." 

The letter being unsealed, the farmer had 
the curiosity to open and read it ; he did so, 
and instead of carrying it to the other lawyer, 
he took it to the person, with whom he was 
at variance. Its perusal cured both parties, 
and ended the dispute. Inference — Lawyers 
live by the violation of the laws of goodness 
and truth. 

Conversation. When five or six men 
are together, it is curious — to observe the 
anxiety every one has to speak. No one 
wishes to hear ; all he desires, is — an audi- • 
tor. Rather than defer telling their respec- 
tive stories, they frequently all speak at the 
same lime. 

Varieties. The United States — is on a 
conspicuous stage; and the world — marks 
her demeanor. 2. If a parent — withhold from 
Iiis children — the light, and influence of Di- 
vine Truth, is he not, in part, responsible 
for their crimes ? 3. Eloquence — is the lan« 
guage of Nature,— of the soul ; it cannot be 
acquired in the schools, though it may be cul- 
tivated there. 4. What is the object of court- 
ship ? to get acquainted ; to show off; to 
take in; or, to marry? b. What a dreadful 
thing it is — to be "cut out," — and to "get 
the mitten/" 

They— know not my heart, who belioe there can be 
One stain of this earth — in its feelings for thee ; 
Who think, while I see thee in beauty's young hour, 
As pure as the morning's first dew on the flower, 
I could harm what I love — as the sun's wanton ray 
But smiles on the dew-drop — to waste it away ! 
No— beaming with light — as t'»cse young features w» 
There's a light round thy heart, which in Invli/r irt 
It is no! that check— 'tis the soul — dawning clear 
Through its innocent blush, makes thy beauty so dm*— 
As the sky we look up to, though glorious and fair, 
Is look'd up to the n>«re because heaven a there I 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



17*7 




PITY, COMPASSION. 
468. Pitt, 
Denevolence to 
the afflicted; a 
mixture of love 
for an object 
which s uiTers, 
whether human 
cr animat and a 
grief that we are 
unable to re- 
Biove those suf- 
ferings. It is seen 
inacompassion- 
ate tenderness 
o:" voice, a feel- 
ing of pain in the 
c ountenance; 
features drawn 
together, e y e- 
Atows drawn down, mouth open, and a g anile 
>v>in°;and falling of the hands and eyes ; as if 
•oi^-nmg over the unhappy object. 

Hacut tAou but seen, as J did, how at last, 
Thy be tuJe*, Belvitfera, like a wretch 
That's do ti ito banishment, came weeping 'brth: 
Whilst fvv young virgins, on whom she once 
Kindly look'd >v and at her grief grew sad! [lean'd, 
Ev'n the loud ?. v>/»\ th't were gather'd round 
To see the sight, 4 \>d mute, when they beheld 
Her : goverrid thai < wring threats, and grumbVd 

PITY. 

H«.^» Tiany bleed, 
By shameless variant, between man and man ! 
On the bare eana i-rposed, he lies, 
With not a friend v» -Jose his eyes. 
Show mercy, and \L m shall Jind it. 
Life, fill'd with grief's <h i'essful train, 
Forever asks the tear hw. - *ie. 

he quality of mercy— is not stVnVcf; 
U dntppeth, as the gentle rain fro. v \ >aven 
Upon the place beneath: it is *?&:<. i Yess'd; 
It blesseth him that gives, and him tvt 1 *akes : 
Ti« mightiest— In the mightiest; it bee* vs 
The throned monarch — better than his ,v vn/ 
His sceptre shows the force of temporal j.l \ V* 
The attribute to aive — and majesty, 
Wherein doth sit the dread and/ear of king* ■ 
But mercy 1 — is above this sceptr'd sway, 
_t is enthroned — in the hearts of kings, 

It is an attribute to God himself: 

And earthly power — doth then show likest God*: 
When mercy — seasons justice. 

But from the mountain's grassy side, 

A guiltless feast I bring : 

A scrip, with fruits and herbs supplied, 

And water from the spring. 
Thou great, thoH best prerogative of power ! 
Justice may guard the throne, but, join'd with thee, 
On rocks of adamant it stand* secure, 
And braves the storm beneath. 
Mercy — is the becoming smile of justice ; 
This — makes her lovely, as her rigor — dreadful; 
Either, alone, defective: — but, when join'd, 
Like day and water in the potter's hands, 
Riey mingle influence, and together rise, 
la forms, which neither, separate, could bestow. 
The sweetest cordial — we receive at last, 
Is— onsritnee — of our vir uous actions past. 
BRANSON. 12 



Maxims. 1. He that/**?* as he ought, will b« 
polite without knowing it. 2. Comon sense is the 
growth of all countries and all ages^ hut it is very 
rare. 3. Modesty is one of the chief ornaments of 
youth. 4. In every condition be humble; the loftier 
the condition, the greater the danger. 5. Feelingi 
and thoughts are the parents of language. 6. Ts 
gain a good reputation, be, what you desire to ap- 
pear. 7. In prosperity, we need consideration „■ in 
adversity — patience. 8. Kindness is more binding 
than a loan. 9. Right should be preferred to kind- 
red. 10. A ivise man adapts himself to circun* 
stances, as water does to the vessel that contains it. 
Anecdote. When Woodward first acted 
Sir John Brute, Garrick was induced, either 
by curiosity or jealousy, to be present. A 
few days afterward, they happened to meet, 
when Woodward asked Garrick, how lie liked 
him in the part ; adding, I thinjf I struck out 
some beauties in it. Garrick replied, " I think 
you struck out all the beauties in it." 

Discretion. At the same time, that 1 
think discretion — the most useful talent a 
man can be master of, I look upon cunning 
to be the accomplishment of little, mean, un- 
generous minds. Discretion — points out the 
noblest ends to us, and pursues the most pro- 
per and laudable metfio-ds of attaining them ; 
cunning — has only private, selfish aims, and 
sticks at nothing which may make them, sitc- 
ceed. Discretion — has large and extensive 
views, and, like a well-formed eye, commands 
a whole horizon,- cunning — i& a kind of 
short-sightedness, that discovers the minutest 
objects, which are near at hand, but is not 
able to discern things at a distance. 

Varieties. 1. Said an Indian chief to the 
President, " May the Great Spirit bear up 
the weight of thy gray hairs, and blunt the 
arrow, that brings them rest. 2. The great 
truth has finally gone forth to the ends of the 
e*rth, that man shall no more render account 
to man, for his belief, over which he himself 
has no control. 3. Let every one feel, think, 
act and say whatever he pleases; provided, 
i he does not infringe upon like privileges of 
others. 4. Virtue — promotes worldly pros- 
perity; vice destroys it. 5. WIio can fully 
j&slize the strength of parental affection, 
v\ iUout experiencing it 1 and even then, ivhn 
can (Mfscribe it. 6. Grief, smothered, preys 
upen t^e vitals ; give it vent into the bosom 
of a frtend. 7. Nothing is of any service, 
that doew not help tore-unite the soul to God, 
But, ivhate'er you are, 
That in this desert inaccessible, 
Under the ariade of melancholy boughs, 
Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time, 
Tf ever you have looked on better days, 
If ever been where belk have knoll'd tochu- Jt. 
If ever sat at any good man's feast.' 
If ever, from your eye-lids, wip'd a tear, 
And know what 'tis to pity, and be pitied, 
Let gentleness my strong enforcement 'jo 



178 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



DESIRE. HOPE. 




469. Hove 
is a mixture 'of 
joy and desire, 
agitating the 

niind, and mli- 
erpating it>. en- 
joymeni; it ev- 
er gives pleas- 
ure ; which is 
not always the 
cas? with wish 
and desire ; as 
they may pro- 
duce or be ac- 
companied with 
pain and anxie- S^ii\\ /^J )l 

a y ndb h r?ghtenl5w M (\\\\\ f/l 
countenance, o- J» ) I \ V II 
pens the mouth ^ I t \ V ' 
to halt" a smile, arches the eye-brows, gives the 
eyes an eager and wistful look; spreads the arms 
with the hands open, read)' to receive the object 
Df its wishes, towards which it leans a little ; the 
voice is somewhat plaintive, and manner incli- 
ning to eagerness, but colored by doubt and anx- 
iety ; the breath drawn inward more forcibly than 
usual, in order to expressour desires more strong- 
ly, and our earenest expectation of receiving the 
object of them. 

But thou, O hope ! with eyes so fair, 
What was thy delighted measure? 
Still it whisper'd — promis'd pleasure, 
And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail ; 

Still would her touch the strain prolong, 
And from the rocks, the woods, the vale, 

She called an echo still thro' all her song; 
And where her sweetest theme she chose, 
A soft responsive voice was heard, at every close, 
And Hope, enchanted, smil'd. and wav'd her 
golden hair. [health! 

Thou captive's freedom, and thou sick man's 
Thou lover's victory, thou beggars wealth ! 
Thou manna, which from heaven we eat, 
To every taste a several meat ; 
Hope ! thou first fruit of happiness ! 
Thou gentle dawning of a bright success ! 
Who. out of fortune's reach doth stand, 
And art a blessing still at hand! 
Brother of faith ! 'twixt whom and thee, 
The joys of heaven and earth divided be; 
The future's thine. — the present's his. 
Thou pleasant, honest flatterer ; for none 
Flatter unhappy men, but thou alone ! 
O Hope, sweet flatterer, whose delusive touch 
Sheds on afflicted minds, the balm of comfort, 
Relieves the load of poverty ; sustains 
The captive, bending under the weight of bonds, 
And smooths the pillow of disease, and pain ; 
Send back the exploring messenger with joy, 
And let me hail thee — from that friendly grove. 

Anecdote. A traveler in a sfage-coach, 
not famous for its svnflness, inquired the 
name of the coach. A fellow passenger re- 
plied, " I think it is the Regulator, for I ob- 
serve that all the other coaches go by it." 

Hast tliou power? — the weak defend ; 

Light? — give light : thy knowledge lend ; 

Rich? — remember Him, who gave ; 

Free? — be brother to the slave. 

i dispu'ablt point— is no man's ground. 



Maxims. 1. It is one thing to knew how t* 
give, ami another to know how to keep. 2. Every 
thing perfected by art, has its source in nature. 
3. lie who tells you the faults of others, intends ta 
tell others your faults. 4. Opinion is fee, and 
conduct alone amenable to the laiv. 5. Extrava- 
gant praise is more mortifying than the keenest 
satire. G. Love all beauty, and you will love all 
goodness. 7. A foolish /Wen c/ does more harm than 
a wise enemy. 8. When our hatred is violent, it 
sinks us below those we hate. 9. There should 
be no delay in a benefit, but in the modesty of the 
receiver. 10. A cup of cold water, in time of need, 
may save a man's life. 

Acquaintance with Human Nature. 
He, who has acquired a competent kr.owl- 
edge of the views, that occupy the generality 
of men ; who has studied a great variety of 
characters, and attentivly observed the force 
and violence of human passions ; togethei 
with the infirmities and contradictions they 
produce in the conduct of life, will find in 
this knowledge, a key to the secret reasons 
and motives which gave rise to many of the 
most important events of ancient times. 

Varieties. 1. Some people will do al- 
most anything, rather than own a fault ; 
tho' eve?-yth'mg depends on it: thus, Seneca's 
wife, to conceal her blindness, declared that 
the whole world was in darkness, and none 
could see. 2. What is the difference between 
pleasure and happiness ? 3. There is, in all 
things, a threefold principle, by which they 
exist; an inmost, middle, and outermost; 
and in human beings, there is a soul, mind, 
and body ; will, understanding, and act ,- af- 
fection, thought and speech; intellectual, 
■rational, and scientific ; end, cause, and ef- 
fect, all essentially distinct. 4. Our Lord 
does not say — if a man see a miracle, he 
shall know that my doctrine is from God; 
but, " if any man will do my will." 

The flower — soon dies, but hope's soft ray 
Unchanged — undying shines 

Around that form — where pale decay, 
A peaceful heart enshrines : 

Like ivy— round the blighted tree, 
It twines around the heart, 

Amid poor—frail humanity, 
The only verdant part. 

True, hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wing? •, 

Kings it makes Gods, and meaner creatures Kings. 

Hope, though 'tis pale sorrow's only cordial, 

Has yet — a dull and opiate quality, 

Enfeebling — what it lulls. 

A beacon shining o'er a stormy sea; 

A cooling/ountam — in a weary land ; 

A green spot — on a waste and burning sand, 

A rose — that o'er a ruin sheds its bloom ; 

A sunbeam — smiling o'er the cold dark tomb. 
Westward — the course of empire takes iti way 

The four first acts already past, 
A fifth— shall close the drama with ibe iaff 

Time's noblest offspring — is the tost. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



179 




HATRED, AVERSION, 
4T0. When, 

by frei|ueni re- 
flections on a 
disagree a 1>I e 
object, our dis- 
approl alion o r 
it is attended 
with a strong 
disinclinat i o n 
of mind to- 
wards it, it is 
called hatred ; 
and when this 
is accompani- 
ed witli a pain- 
ful sensation 
upon the appre- 
hension of i t s 
presence and 
approach, there follows an inclination To avoid it, 
called aversion ; extreme 'hatred is abhorrence, 
or detestation. Hatred, or aversion expressed 
to, or of any person, or a.y thing, that is odious, 
draws back the body to avoid the hated object, 
and the hands, at the same time, thrown out and 
spread, as if to keep it off; the face is turned away 
from that side, which the hands are thrown out; 
the eyes looking angrily and obliquely, or asquint, 
the way the hands are directed ; the eyebrows are 
contracted, the upper lip disdainfully drawn up; 
the teeth set; the pitch of the voice is loud, surly, 
chiding, languid and vehement; the sentences are 
6hort and abrupt. 

HATRED— CURSING THE OBJECT HATED. 

Poisons — be their drink, 
Gall—ioorse than gall, the daintest meat they taste : 
Their sweetest shade, a grove ofcyprus trees; 
Their sweetest prospects, murd'ring basalisks; 
Their music— frightful as the serpent's hiss: 
And boding screech-owls make the concert full; 
All the foul terrors of dark-seated hell. 
The mortal coldness of the soul, like death itself conies down ; 
It cannot feel for other's woes, it dare not dream its own; 
That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears, 
And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears. 
Tho' wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth, distract the breast, 
Thro' midnight hours, thnt yield no more their/ormer hope of rest ; 
'Tis but as ivy leaves — around the ruin'd turret wreath, 
All green and mildly fresh without, but worn and gray beneath. 
On Adam last thus judgment he pronoune'd: 
"Because thou hast hearken'd to the voice of thy 
And eaten of the tree, concerning which [tvife, 
I charg'd thee, saying, 'Thou shalt not eat thereof.' 
Curs'd is the ground for thy sake ; thou, in sorrow, 
Shalt eat thereof all the days of thy life; 
Thorns, also, and thistles it shall bring thee forth 
Unbid; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field. 
In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, 
Till thou return unto the ground; for thou 
Out of the ground wast taken : know thy birth, 
For dust thou art, and shalt to dust return." 

Anecdote. Satisfaction. A ruined 
debtor, having done every thing in his power 
to satisfy his creditors, said to them, " Gentle- 
men, — I have been extremely perplexed, till 
noio, how to satisfy you : and having done 
my utmost to do so, I shall leave you to sat- 
isfy yourselves" 

He, whose mind 

Is virtuous, is alo?te— of noble kind ; 

Tho' poor— in fortune, of celestial race; 

Aad he — commits a crime, who calls nim base. 



Maxims. I. One true friend is woi h a hund- 
red relations. 2. Happiness is to be <bund eiery 
where, if you possess a well regulated mind. \i. 
Between good sense ami good taste, there is the 
same difference as between cause and effect. 4. 
He, who profits by the mistakes, or oversights oi~ 
others, learns a lesson of great importance. 5. 
The flight of a pers.su accused, is a tacit acknowl- 
edgment oi his gniU. 6. He, is wise, who does ev- 
ery thing ai the pro] er time. 7. Confession is. £« 
a medicine — to him v\ \o has gone astray. 8. The 
love of liberty make:, even an old man brave. 9. 
Children are heirs tc iV diseases of their parents, 
as well as to their professions. 10. A man, who 
cannot forgive, breaks uie bridge over which he 
might pass to Heaven. 

Thoughts. A man 'vould do well to car- 
ry a pencil in his pock*.*., and write down the 
thoughts of. the moment. Those that come 
unsought for, are common' v the most valu- 
able, and should be secured, c^cause they sel- 
dom return. 

Varieties. 1. What do yoi» think of one, 
who gives away ten dollars, whwi b« owes a 
hundred more than he can pay ? 2- Let us 
follow nature, who has given shamt to man 
for a scourge ; and let the heaviest pari fit tho 
punishment be — the infamy attending h 3, 
Can we perceive any quality in an object 
without an act of comparison ? 4. Falsehood 
often decks herself in the outer garments oi 
truth, that she may succeed the better in hei 
wily deceits. 5. The thing, which has bee* 
done, it is that which shall be ; and that whicL 
is, it is that which shall be done; and thert 
is no new thing under the sun. 6. Society 
cannot be held together without morals ,- nor 
can morals maintain their station in the hu- 
man heart, without religion,- and no religion 
is worth having, unless it is founded on truth, 
which is the corner-stone of the fabric of hu- 
man nature. 7. How far have moral percep- 
tions been influenced by physical phenomena? 

How very precious — praise 
Is — to a young genius, like sunlight— on flowers, 
Ripening them into fruit. 

One hour — 
Of thoughtful solitude — may nerve the heart 
For days of conflict. — girding up its armor — 
To m°et the most insidious foe, and lending 
The courage — sprung alone from innocence — 
And good intent. 

There is not, in this life of ours, 

One bliss — unmixed with fears ; 
The hope, that wakes our deepest powers, 

A face of sadness wears; 
And the dew, that show'rs o'er dearest flow'rs. 

Is the bitter dew — of tears. 

In all our strictures — placid we will be, 
As Halcyons — brooding on a summer sea. 

No man — is born into the world, whose work- 
Is not born with him ; there is always work, — 
And tools — tc work withal, for those who will 



180 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 




AXGER, RACE, FURY, 

47 8. Imply 
ext itement or 
violeni ai lion : 
when hatred 
»nd displeasure 
nse high, on a 
sudden, from 
an apprehen- 
sion of injury 
received and 
perturbation of 
mind in conse- 
7Uenceofir,it is 
railed anger : 
and rising to a 
very high de- 
gree, and ex- 
tin^nishing hu- 
manity, it he- 
roines rage and fury : anger always renders 
the muscles protuberant; hence, an angry mind 
and protuberant muscles, are considered as 
cause and effect. Violent anger or rage, ex- 
presses itself with rapidity, noise, harshness, 
trepidation, and sometimes with interrrnption 
and hesitation, as unable to niter itself with suf- 
ficient force. It wrinkles and clouds the brow, 
enlarges and heaves the nostrils; every vein 
Dwells, muscles strained, nods or shakes the 
head, stretches out the neck, clenches the fists, 
breathing hard, breast heaving, teeth shown and 
gnashing, face bloated, red, pale, or black ; eyes 
n>d, staring, rolling and sparkling; eye-brows 
drawn down over them, stamps with the foot, 
and gives a violent agitation to the whole body. 
The voice assumes the highest pitch it can 
adopt, consistently with force and loudness; 
Tho' sometimes, to express anger with uncom- 
mon energy, the voice assumes a low and forci- 
ble tone. 

Hear me, rash man ; on thy allegiance hear me ; 
£ince thou hast striv'n to make us break our vow, 
Which, nor our nature, nor our place can bear, 
vVe banish thee forever from our sight, 
And our kingdom; If when three days are expired, 
Thy hated trunk be found in our dominions, 
That moment is thy death.— Away. 

Anger is like 

A full hot horse; who, being allow'd h;3 way, 

Ss.'/-mettle fires him. 
The short passing anger but seem'd to awaken 
New beauty, like flowers, that are sweetest when shaken. 

They are as gentle 
As zephyrs blowing below the violet, 
Hot wagging his sweet head ; and yet as rough, 
Their royal blood enchaf 'd, as the rud'st wind, 
That, by the top, doth take the mountain pine, 
And make him stoop to the vale. 

You are yoked with a lamb, 
That carries anger — as the flint bears fire ; 
Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, 
And straight is cold again. 

Anecdote. Sowing and Reaping, A 
countryman, sowing his ground, two up- 
starts, riding that way, one of them called to 
him with an insolent air — "Well, honest fel- 
low, 'tis your business to sow, but we reap 
She fruit of your labor." To which the 
xraitryman replied — M 'Tis very likely you 
may; for I am sowing hemp." 

The world's a !>ooh,— writ by the eternal art 

ff tl« gr^at ,1uth <r, an<? printed— in mau'3 heart. 



Laconics. 1. A little neglcrtmny breed (.rem 
mischief. 2. Retrospection and anticipation maj 
both be turned to good account. 3. lie, wha 
would be well spoken of himself, must speak 
well of others- 4. Wildness of eccentricity, and 
thoughtlessness of conduct, are not necessary ac- 
companiments of talent, or indications of gentus. 
5. Vanity and affectation, often steal into the 
hearts of youth, and make them very ridiculous ; 
yet, no one is contemptible, for being what he if, 
but for pretending to be what he is not. 6. JW 
speech can be severe, unless it be true ; for if it 
be not true.it cannot apply; consequently, i£a 
severity is destroye'd by its injustice. 7. Mutual 
benevolence must be kept up between relatives, 
as well as between friends ; for without this ce- 
ment, whatever the building is called, it is only 
a castle in the air, a tiling talked of, without tho 
reality. 

Education. Education is to the mind, 
what cleanliness is to the body ; the beauties 
of the one, as well as the other, are blemished, 
if not totally tod, by neglect: and as the 
richest diamond cannot shoot forth its lustre, 
wanting the lapidary's skill, so, will the la- 
tent virtue of tlie noblest mind be buried in 
obscurity, if not called forth by precept, and 
the rules of good manners. 

Varieties. 1. He that thinks he can be 
negligent of his expenses, is not far from be- 
ing poor. 2. Extended empire, like expand- 
ed gold, exchanges solid strength for feeble 
splendor. 3. Similarity in sound, weakens 
contrast in sense. 4. There being differences 
of mind, each member of a family, and of 
the community, is best qualified for the per- 
formance of specific duties. 5. The notions 
of some parents are very extravagant, in 
wishing the teacher to make great men of 
their sons; while they would be much more 
useful, and happy, in the field, or in the 
workshop. 6. Write down all you can re- 
member of a lecture, address, or book, and 
the result will enable your teacher, as well 
as yourself, to decide, with a good degree of 
accuracy, upon your character, and the stu- 
dies most appropriate for you to pursue. 
What is wedlock forced, but a hell, 
An age of discord, and continued strife! 
Whereas the contrary — bringeth forth bliss, 
And is a pattern—of celestial ptace. 

Immortality o'ersweeps 
All pains, all tears, all trials, all fears, and peals. 
Like the eternal thunder of the deep, 
Into my ears, this truth — " Thou livest forever." 
Oh ! life is a waste of wearisome hours, 

Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns ; 
And the heart that is soonest awak'd to Ibejlowr's, 

Is always the first to be touched by the thorns. 
The soul of music— slumbers in the shell, 
Till waked and kindled, by the master's speS 
And feeling hearts, (touch them but lightly,? put* 
A thousand melodies, unheard before. 

When all thine* have their trial, you shall ini, 
Nothing is constant, but a virtuous mind. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



181 




REVENGE 
472. Re- 

V K N G E — IS a 

propensity 
k endeavor to 
injure or pain 
t a e offender, 
r.ouirar> to the 
laws of j u s- 
tice : which is 
attended with 
triumph and 
exultation, 
when the in- 
jury is inflict- 
ed, or accom- 
plished. It ex- 
poses itself 
like malice, or 
spite, but more 
openly, loudly and triumphantly; sets the jaws; 
grates the teeth ; sends blasting flashes from the 
eyes ; draws the corners of the mouth towards the 
ears: clenches both fists, and holds the elbow in 
a straining manner : the tone of voice and expres- 
sion are similar to those of anger; but the pilch 
of voice is not so high, nor loud. 
If they but speak the truth of her, [honor!, 

These hands shall tear her; if they wrong her 
The proudest of them shall well hear of it. 
Time hath not so dried this blood of mine, 
Nor age so eat up my invention, 
Nor fortune made such havoc of my means, 
Nor my bad life — 'reft me so much of friends, 
But they shall find awak'd, in such a kind, 
Both strength oflimb and policy of mind. 
Ability in means, and choice of friends, 
To quit me of them thoroughly. 

473. If it will feed nothing else, it will feed 
my revenge. He hath disgraced me, and hin- 
der'drae of half a million; laugh'd at my 
losses, mocked at my gains, scorn'd my na- 
tion, thwarted my bargains, cool'd my 
friends, heated mine enemies. And what's 
his reason ? I am a Jew ! Hath not a Jew 
eyes ? Hath not a Jew hands ? organs, di- 
mensions, se?ises, affections, passions ? Is he 
not fed with the same food; hurt with the 
same weapons ; subject to the same diseases ; 
heaTd by the same means : warm'd and cool'd 
by the same summer and winter, as a Chris- 
tian is 1 If you stab us, do we not bleed ? 
If you tickle us, do we not laugh ? If you 
poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong 
us, shall we not revenge ? If we are like you 
in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If 
a Jew wrong a Christian what is his humili- 
ty? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, 
what should his sufferance be by christian 
example! Why, Revexge. The villiany 
you teach me, I will execute ,• and it shall go 
tutr I, but I will better the instruction. 

O sacred solitude ; divine retreat ! 

Choice— of the prudent ! envy— of the great ! 

By thy pure stream, or in thy waving shade, 

We court fair wisdom, that celestial maid: 

The genuine offspring — of her lov'd embrace, 

(Strangers— on earth,) are innocence — and peace. 

There, from the ways of men laid safe ashore 

We smile — to hear the distant tempest roar; 

There, biess'd with health, with business unperplex'd, 

Thit life we relish, and ensure the next 



When will the world shake off' such yokes! oh, 
Will that redeeming day shine out o i men, [when 
That shall behold them rise, erect a.\\\free, 
As Heaven and Nature — meant mankind should be. 
When Reason shall no longer blindly bow 
To the vile pagod things, that o'er her brow, 
Like hirn of Jaghernaut, drive trampling now; 
Nor Conquest dare to desolate God ; s earth; 
Nor drunken Victory, with a Nero's mirth, 
Strike her lewd harp amidst a. people's groan*; — 
But, built on love, the world's exalted thrones 
Shall to the virtuous and the ivise be given — 
Those bright, those sole legitimates of Heaven 1 

Human Testimony. The judgment must 
he employed, to discern the truth oi falsehood of 
assertions, by attending to the credibility and 
consistency of the different parts of the story: the 
veracity and character of witnesses in other re- 
spects; by comparing the assertions with ac- 
counts received from other witnesses, who could 
not be ignorant of the facts; and lastly, by bring- 
ing the whole to a test of a comparison with 
known and admitted facts. 

Anecdote. Scientific Enthusiasm. The 
enthusiasm of ardent and forcible minds, ap- 
pears madness, to those who are dull and 
phlegmatic. The pleasure it inspires is the 
greatest and the most independent remunera- 
tion, that men of genius receive for their efforts 
and exertions. Do-na-tel-lo, the great Flor- 
entine s cu I pt or, had been long working at his 
statue of Judith ; and, on giving the last stroke 
of the chisel to it, he was heard to exclaim, 
" Speak now ! I am sure you can." 

Varieties. 1 . How beautiful the arrange- 
ment of all living creatures, with the bounda- 
ries of their habitation .' But how much more 
beautiful, could we but discover the law of 
this arrangement, or the reason, by which it 
is founded; that law, and the source from 
which it proceeds, must be the perfection of 
intelligence. 2. A good natured man has the 
whole vxyrld to be happy in. He is blest 
with even/body's blessing, and wherever he 
goes, he finds some one to love; "Unto him 
that hath, shall be given." 3. Parents should 
beware of discouraging their children, by 
calling them fools, half-witted, and telling 
them they will never know anything, &c ; 
but let the current flow on, and it will soon 
run clear: dam it up, and mischief will mosc 
certainly ensue. 4. The agitations among 
the nations of the earth, cannot be mistaken : 
they are the struggles of opinion, writhing in 
its chains, and indig?iantly striving to cast 
them off; the soul bursting its trammels, for- 
saking its bondage, and soaring away to it/ 
native heaven of thought, where it may langfi 
at large, emancipate and free. 

" Feace .'" shall the world, out-wearied, ever see 
Ite universal reign ? Will states, will kii>gs, 
Fut doion those murderous— and unlwly tl.ings, 
Which fill the earth— with Mood and misery? 
Will nations learn — that tote— not enmity- 
Is Heaven's f.r st le»son. 



82 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 




ANGER, HAIRED, REPROACH. 

474. Re- 
proach — is set- 
tled anger, or 
hatred, chasti- 
sing the object 
of us dif.like, by 
casting in his 
teeth the secret 
causes of his 
misconduct, or 
i m p e rfeclions: 
the brow is con- 
tracted, the lip 
turn'd up with 
scorn, the head 
shaken, t li e 
voice low, as 
if abhorring', and 
the whole body 
expressive of aversion, ccnlempt and loathing. 

FareivtlL happy fields, 

Where joy forever dwells ! Hail, horrors ! hail, 

Infernal world I and thou, profoundest Hell, 

Receive thy new possessor ; one who brings 

A mind not to be chang'd by place or time. 

The mind is its oun place, and in itself 

Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of Heav'n : 

What matter where, if I be still the same, 

And what I should be. all but less than he 

Whom thunder hath made greater? Here, at least 

We shall be free; th' Almighty hath not built 

Here for his envy ; will not drive us hence : 

Here we may reign secure; and in my choice, 

To reign is worth ambition, though in hell : 

Better to reign in hell, than serve in Heaven. 

He is my bane, I cannot bear him ; 

One heav'n and earth can never hold us both : 

Still shall we hate, and with defiance deadly, 

Keep rage alive, till one be lost forever ; 

As if two stow should meet in one meridian, 

And strive, in fiery combat, for the passage. 

Who does one thing, and another tell, 

My heart detests him as the gates of hell. 

Hence, from my sight ! 

Thy father cannot bear thee; 

Fly with thy infamy to some dark cell, 

Where, on the confines of eternal night, 

Mourning, misfortunes, cares and anguish dwell. 

REPROACHING WITH WANT OF COURAGE AND SPIRIT. 

Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward ! 
Thou little valiant, great in villany, 
Thou ever strong upon the stronger side! 
Thou fortune's champion, thou dost never fight 
But when her humorous ladyship is bv, 
To teach thee safety ! thou art perjured too, 
And somhest up greatness. What a fool art thou, 
A ramping fool; to brag, to stamp, and swear, 
Upon my party ! Thou cold-blooded slave ! 
Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side. 
Keen sworn my soldier ? bidding me depend, 
Ppon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength? 
And dost thou now fall over to my foes 7 
Thou wear a lion's hide ; doff it, for shame, 
And hang a calf's skin on those recreant limbs. 
Delmging tendency of Anger. What 
B wretched thing is anger, and the commotion of 
the soul. If anything ir'erposes itself between 
me ? id the object of my pufcdits, what is incum 



bent upon me is, that I should put Corn my powert 
and remove it. How shall 1 do this? By the ex- 
ercise of my understanding. To the employment 
of this power, a cool and exact observation is ne- 
cessary ; but the moment I am the slave of pas- 
sion, my power is lost; I am turned into a beast, 
or rather into a drunkard; I can neither preserve 
my footing, nor watch my advantage, nor strike 
an effectual blow. Did you never see a passion- 
ate and a temperate man — pitched against each 
other? How like a fool did the former appear! 
how did his adversary turn and wind him ns he 
pleased, like some god — controling an inferior na- 
ture ! It is by this single implement, his reason, 
that man tames horses, camels, and elephants, to 
his hand ; that he tames the lion of the desert, and 
shuts up the hyena with bars. 

Anecdote. Servile Imitation. The Chi- 
nese tailors do not meastire their customers, 
but make clothes according to the pattern 
given them. An American captain, being at 
Canton, and wanting a new coat made, sent 
the proper quantity of cloth, and an old one 
for a pattern: but, unluckily, the old coat 
had a patch at the elbow, which the tairor 
copied, to the no small mortification of his 
employer. 

Varieties. 1. Whatever tends to dissolve 
the Union, or lessen the sovereign authority, 
is hostile to our liberty and independence. 2. 
As the true christian religion, which is to be- 
come universal, had one local origin, so, 
have all genuine and specific creations had 
their origin, or local centre, whence they have 
been diffused. 3. Let an unbeliever in this 
religion, write down, fairly and truly, all the 
absurdities he believes instead of it, and he 
will find that it requires more faith to reject 
it, than it does to embrace it. 4. Reverence 
paid to man, on account of what is good and 
true; as divine in them, and as their own, 
is the worship of the creature, instead of the 
Creator, and is idolatry. 5. Man is the end 
of the whole creation ; and all particulars 
of it conspire, that conjunction of him with 
God may be attained, and that the end may 
be brought to pass. 
False views, like that horizon's fair deceit, 
Where earth and heaven but seem, alas, to meet 
Deceit — is the false road to happiness ; 
And all the joys we travel to through vice, 
Like fairy banquets, vanish when we touch them 

Oh ! colder than the wind, that freezes 
Founts, that but now in sunshine play'd, 

Is that congealing fang, which seizes 
The trusting bosom, when betrayed. 

In vain my lyre would lightly breathe 
The smile, {ha. sorrow fain would wear, 

But mocks the woe, that lurks beneath, 
Like roses— o'er a sepulchre. 

As the ivy — climbs the talltn tree, 
So — round the loftiest souls his toils he wound, 
And, with his spells, subdu'd ihe fierce and/re« 
An honest man's the noblest work of God. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



183 




TERROR, OR FRIGHT. 

4 75. When 
violent and 
sudden, it 
opens very 
wide the 
mouth, short- 
ens the nose, 
draws down 
the eye- 
brows, gives 
the e c a n l e- 
nan;e an air 
of wildness, 
covers it with 
deadly pale- 
ness, draws 
back the el- 
bows parallel 
with the 
sides, lifts up the open hands — with the fingers 
Bpread to the height of the breast, at some distance 
before it, so as to shield it from the dreadful object. 
One fool is drawn back behind the other, so that 
the body seems shrinking from the danger, and 
putting itself in a posture for flight The heart 
beats violently, the breath is quick and short, and 
the whole body is thrown into a general tremor^ 
The voice is weak and trembling, the sentences 
short, and the meaning confused and incoherent. 
Imminent danger produces violent shrieks, with- 
out any articulate sounds; sometimes confuses 
the thoughts, produces faintness, which is some- 
jmes followed by death. 

Ah! mercy- on my soul. What is that? 
My old friends ghost ? They say none but 
wicked folks walk; I wish I were at the bot- 
tom of a coal-pit. See ! how long and pale 
his face has grown since his death : he never 
was handsome; and death has improved him 
very much the wrong way. Pray do not come 
near me ! I wish'd you very well when you 
were alive ; but I covild never abide a dead 
man, cheek oyjowl with me, Ah, ah, mercy 
on us ! No nearer, pray ; if it be only to take 
leave of me that you are come back, I could 
have excused you the ceremony with all my 
heart; or if you — mercy onus! no nearer, 
pray, or, if you have wronged anybody, as 
you always loved money a little, I give you 
the word of frightened christian ; I will pray 
as long as you please for the deliverance, or 
repose of your departed soul. My good, 
worthy, noble friend, do, pray disappear, as 
ever you would wish your old friend to come 
to his senses again. 

Passion, when dee*p, is still — the glaring eye, 
That reads its enemy with glance of fire ; 
The lip, that curls and writhes in bitterness; 
The brow contracted, till its wrinkles hide 
The keen fixed orbs that burn and flash below ; 
The hand firm clench'd and quivering, and the foot 
Planted in attitude to spring and dart 
its vengeance, are the language it employs. 
While passions glow, the heart, like heated steel, 
Takes each impression, and is work'd at pleasure. 
Anecdote. Printing. It is related that 
Faust, of Mentz, one of the many to whom 
the honor of having invented the invaluable 
art of printing is ascribed, having carried 
some of his Bibles to ParU; and offered tiiem 



for sale as MSS., the French, after consider* 
ing the number of the books, and t.ieir exact 
conformity to each other, and that the best 
book writers could not be so exact, concluded 
there was witchcraft in the case; and, by 
either actually indicting him as a conjuror, 
or threatening to do so, they extorted tlje 
secret; hence, the origin of the popular story 
of the Devil and Dr. Faustus. 

Their breath is agitation, and their life 
A storm whereon they ride, to sink at last, 
And yet so nurs'd and bigoted to strife, 
That should their days, surviving perils past, 
ivlelt to calm twilight, they feel overcast 
With sorrow and supineness. and so die; 
Even as a flame unfed, which runs to waste 
With its own flickering, or a sword laid by 
Which eats into itself, and rusts ingloriously. 

Friendship. The water, that flows from a 
spring, does not congeal in the winter. And those 
sentiments of friendship, which flow from the 
heart, cannot be frozen in adversity. 

Varieties. 1. As in agriculture, he, who 
can produce the greatest crop, is net the best 
farmer, but he, Who can effect it with the 
least labor and expense ; so, in society, he is 
not the best member, who can bring about 
the most apparent good, but he, who can ac- 
complish it with the least admixture of con* 
comitant evil. 2. Cicero says, that Roscius, 
the Roman comedian, could express a sen- 
tence in as many ways by his gestures, as he 
himself could by his words. 3. The eye of 
a cultivated person is full of meaning ; if you 
read it attentively, it will seem like a mirror, 
revealing the inner world of thought and 
feeling ; as the bosom of the smooth lake re- 
flects the image of the earth around, and the 
heavens above. 4. A good reader and a bad 
singer, and a bad reader and a good singer, 
is without excuse,- for the same strength, 
purity, distinctness, flexibility and smooth- 
ness of voice, that either requires, and pro* 
motes, are subservient to each other. 

Should/a/e — command me to the farthest verge 
Of the green earth, to distant, barbarbous climes, 
Rivers — unknown to song ; where first the sun — 
Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beams 
Flame on the Atlantic Isles ; 'tis nought to me; 
Since God — is ever present, ever felt, 
In the void ivaste. — as in the city full; 
And where He— vital breathes, there must be joj 
When e'en, at last, the solemn hour shall come, 
And wing my mystic fight — to future worlds, 
I cheerful, will obey ; thee, with new powers, 
Will rising wonders sing; I cannot go — 
Where universal tote— smiles not around, 
Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their sons: 
From seeming evil, — still educing- good, 
And better, — thence again, and better — still- 
In infinite progression But I lose 
Myself in Him — in light ineffable: 
Come then, expressive Silence— m use his j>mwe. 



84 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



GRIEF ASD REMORSE. 

Are 

illied 

• and 

or a 

re- 




476. 
closely 

to sorio 
remorse 

|> a n fit 

uii mbrance of 
criminal a c - 
lions and pur- 
suits ; casts 
1 o w n the 
counten a n ce, 
••kinds it witli 
anxiety hangs 
down t h e 
head, shakes it 
with regret, 
just raises the 
eyes as if to 
look up. and 
suddenly casts 
them down again with sighs; the rieht hand 
sometimes heats the heart or head, and the whole 
hody writhes as if in self- aversion. The voice 
has a harshness, as in hatred, and inclines to a 
low and reproachful tone : weeps, stamps, hur- 
ries to and fro, runs distracted, or faints away. 
When it is violent, grovels on the ground ; tears 
the clothes, hair or flesh: screams; sometimes 
it produces torpid sullen silence, resembling to- 
tal apathy. 

47 7. Remorse for Drunkenness. I 
remember a mass of things, but nothing dis- 
tinctly ; a quarrel, nothing wherefore. O that 
men should put an enemy in their mouths to 
steal away their brains ; that we should with 
joy, pleasure, revel, applause, transform our- 
selves into beasts: I will ask him for my 
place again; he shall tell me — I am a drunk- 
ard : had I as mailiy mouths as Hydra, such 
an answer would stop them all. To be now 
a sensible man, by and by a fool — and pres- 
ently — a beast! O strange! every inordi- 
nate cup is unbless'd, and the ingredient is 
a devil. 

GRIEF DEPLORING LOSS OF HAPPIXESS. 

I had been happy, if the general camp, 

Pioneers and all. had wrong'd my love, 

So had I nothing known: O now. forever, 

Farewell the tranquil mind; farewell, content; 

Farewell the plumed tro?p and the big war 

Thai make ambition — virtue! O farewell : 

Farewell the neighing steal, and the shrill trump, 

The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing7?/f, 

The royal banner, and all quality, 

Pride, pomp, and circumstances of glorious war! 

Fareicell ! Othello's occupation's gone. 

Oh, when the last account 'twixt heaven andearth 

Is to be made, then, shall this hand and seal 

Witness against us to damnation ! 

How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds 

M ikes ill deeds done ! Hadst not thou beer, by, 

A fellow 1 y the hand of Nature marked, 

Q iced and signed, to do a deed of shame, 

Tnis murder had not come into my mind; 

Bat taking note of thy abhorred aspect, 

Finding l\.eeftt for Lloody villany, 

Apt lial le to be employed in danger, 

I fai"»!y broke with thee of Arthur's death ; 

A ad Hon, to be endeared to a Icing, 

•Llili*i it no conscience to destroy a prince. | 



Freedom of tlie Press, ihe liberty of the 
press— is the true measure of the liberty ofthepeo- 
plt. The one cannot be attacked, without injur} 
10 the oilier. Our thoughts ought to be perfectly 
free; to bridle them, or stife them in their sanctu- 
ary, is the crime of perverted humanity. Wha: 
can I call my own, if my thoughts are not mine. 

Anecdote. Prize of Immortality. On 
its being remarked to Zeuxis, a celebrated 
painter, that he was very long in finishing 
his works, he replied, " I am, indeed, a long 
time in finishing my works; but what I 
paint — is for eternitt." 

Varieties. 1 Many projects, which, at 
the first, appear plausible and inviting, in 
the end — prove to be very injurious. 2. Sci- 
ence, philosophy and religion, are our food in 
youth, and our delight in more advanced 
tife i they are ornaments to prosperity, and 
a comfort and refuge, in adversity ; armor at 
home, and abroad, they pass their days and 
nights with us, accompany us in our travels, 
and in rural retirements. 3. Which is more 
to be dreaded, a false friend or an open ene- 
my ? 4. Guard against being led into impru- 
dence, by yielding to an impetuous temper. 
5. There is no virtuous person, who has not 
some neakness or vice; nor is there a vi- 
cious one, who cannot be said to possess 
some virtue. 6. What a difficult thing it is, 
not to betray guilt in the countenance, when 
it exists in the mind .' 7. The strength of 
one vital faculty is sometimes the occasion of 
a weakness in another ,- but, that it may not 
exist, exercise no faculty or principle beyond 
its strength or bounds. 8. Science — relates t$ 
whatevever addresses us thro' theatre senses; 
which are the ultimates — upon which the 
interiors of the mind, and the inmost of tho 
soul — rest. 

Wherefore rejoice ? What conquest Drings he home J 
What tributaries follow him to Rome, 
To grace, in captive bonds, his chariot-wheels 1 
You blocks, you stones, you worse than sensel«s| 
O. you hard Aram, you cruel men of Rome, [things! 
Knew ye not Pompey ? Many a time and oft 
Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, 
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-\ops, 
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat 
The live-long day, with patient expectation, 
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rorre : 
And when you saw his chariot but appear, 
Have you not made an universal shout, 
That Tyber trembled underneath his banks, 
To hear the replication of your sounds, 
Made in his concave shores? 
And do you now put on your be?t attire f 
And do you now cull out a holiday? 
And do you now strew flowers in his "way. 
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood * 
Begone ; 

Run to your houses; fall upon your knee» } 
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague. 
That needs must light on this ingratitiuU 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



185 




DESPAIR. 
477. Asa 

condemned 
» r i m i n a 1. or 
one who has 
lost all hope of 
salvation, 
bends the eye- 
nrows down- 
ward, clouds 
the forehead, 
rolls the eyes 
rround fretful- 
ly, eyeballs red 
ml inflamed 
* i k e a rabid 
do* ; opens the 
mouth horizon- 
tally, bites the 
lips, widens the 

nostrils, and gnashes the teeth; the head is press- 
ed down upon the breast; heart too hard to permit 
tears to flow; arms are sometimes bent at the el- 
bows: the fists clench'd hard; the veins and mus- 
cles swollen; the skin livid; the whole body 
strained and violently agitated ; while groans of 
inward torture are more frequently uttered than 
words. If any words are spoken, they are few, 
and expressed with a sullen eager bitterness; the 
tones of the voice often loud and furious, and 
sometimes in the same pitch for a considerable 
time. This state of human nature is too terrible, 
too frightful to look, or dwell upon, and almost 
inproper for representation : for if death cannot 
be counterfeited without too much shocking our 
humanity, despair, which exhibits a state ten 
thousand times moie terrible than death, ought to 
be viewed with a kind of reverence to the great 
Author of Nature, who seems sometimes to permit 
this agony of mind, as a warning to avoid that 
wickedness, which produces it : it can hardly be 
over-acted. 

Bring me to my trial when you will. 

Died he not in his bed? where should he die? 

Cai I make men live, whether they will or no? 

Oh ! torture me no more, I will confess. 

Alive again? then show me where he is, 
Til give a thousand pounds to look upon him. — 
He hath no eyes, the dust hath blinded them — 
Comb down his hair; look! look! it stands upright, 
Like lime-\w\gs. set to catch my winged soul! 
Give me some drink, and bid the apothecary 
Bring the strong poison that I bought of him. 

Ay. but to die, and go we know not where; 

To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot; 

This sensible warm motion to become 

A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit 

To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside 

In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice ; 

To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, 

And blown with restless violence about 

The pendant world ; or to be worse than worst 

Of those, that lawless and uncertain thoughts 

Imagine howling! — 'tis too horrible! 

The weariest and most loathed worldly life, 

That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment 

Can lay on nature, is a paradise 

To what we fear of death. 

Cdtics are like a kind of flies, that breed 
In wild Gg-trees. and, when they're grown up, feed 
Upon the raw fruit of the nobler kind, 
And by the.r nibbling on the outward rind, 
Open the poros, and make way for the sun 
T* ripen it sooner than he would have done. 
24 



Virtue and Vice. Every man has actually 
within him, the seeds of every virtue and everj 
vice; and the proportion, in which they thrive and 
ripen, depends, in general, upon the situations in 
which he has been, and is placed, and his life. 

Anecdote. Filial Piety. Valerius Max- 
imus relates, that a woman of distinction, 
having been condemned to be strangled, was 
carried to prison, in order to be put to death; 
but the jailor was so struck with compunc- 
tion, that, resolving not to kill her, he chose 
to let her die with hunger; meanwhile, ha 
permitted her daughter to visit her in prison, 
taking care that she brought nothing to eat. 
Many days passing by, and the prisoner still 
living, the jailor at length,suspecting some- 
thing, toatched the daughter, and discovered 
that she nourished her mother with her own 
milk. He informed the authorities, and they 
the people ; when the criminal was pardoned^ 
and the mother and daughter maintained at 
the public expense ,• while a temple was erect> 

ed — SACRED TO FILIAL PIETY. 

Varieties. 1. The mind should shine 
through the casket, that contains it ; its elo- 
quence must speak in the cheek ,• and so dis- 
tinctly should it be wrought in the whole 
countenance, that one might say, the body 
thinks, as well as feels „• such oratory will 
never cloy ; it is always enchanting, never the 
same. 2. A gentleman, lecturing before a 
lyceum, remarked : a lady, when s.:e married, 
lost her personal identity — her distinctive 
character — and was like a dew-drop .swallow- 
ed by a sunbeam. 3. Let ignorance talk, 
learning hath its value. 4. Where mystery 
is practiced, there is generally something had 
to conceal, or something incompatible .vith 
candor, or ingenuousness, which form the 
chief characteristic of genuine innocence. 5. 
The worst man is often he, who thinks him- 
self the best. 6. A be?iefit is a good office, done 
with intention and judgment. 7. He, who 
punishes an enemy, has a momentary de- 
light ; but he who forgives him, has an abid* 
ing satisfaction. 

Despair shall round their souls be twin'd, 
And drink the vigor of their mind: 
As round the oak rank ivy cleaves, 
Steals its sap, and blasts its leaves. 
Like yonder blasted boughs, by lightning riven, 
Perfection, beauty, life, they never know, 
But frown on all, that pass, a monument of wo* 

I saw, on the top of a mountain high 

A gem, that shone Wkefire by night; 
It seem'd a star, that had left the sky, 

And dropp'd to sleep on the lonely height 
I clomb the peak, and found it soon 

A lump of ice, in the clear coid moon — 
Can you its hidden sense impart? 

'Twas a cheerful look, and a broken heart. 
Favors — to none, to all. she smiles extends, 
Oft she rejects, — but never ontt — offends 
02 



IS6 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 




SORROW AND SADNESS. 

478. In so* 

rov» , iv h c n 
Moderate, the 
countenance 

is dejected, 
the eyes are 
cast down, tlie 
arms hang / 
1 a x, s o ni e- ' 
times a little 
raised, sud- 
denly to /„// 
agai n ; the 
hands open, 
the fingers 
tprea d. the 
voice plain- 
tive, and fre- 
quently inter- 
rupted with sighs. But when immoderate^" it 
distorts the countenance, as ifin agonies of pain; 
raises the voice to the loudest complainings, and 
sometimes even to cries and shrieks; wrings 
the hands, beats the head and breast, tears the 
hair, and throws itself on the ground ; like some 
other passions in excess, it borders on phrenzy. 

Say that again ; the shadow oimy sorrow ! 
Ha ! let's see : 

'Tis very true, my grief lies all within ; 
And these external manners of lament, 
Are merely shadows to the unseen grief, 
That swells, with silence, in my tortured soul ; 
There— Vies the substance; 
And I thank thee, king, 
For the great bounty, that not only giv'st 
Me cause to wail, but teaches me the -way, 
How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon, 
And then be gone, and trouble you no more. 
Pelayo— stood confused : he had not seen 
Count Julian's dau'ter, since in Roderick's court, 
Glittering in beauty and in innocence, 
A radiant vision, in her joy, she moved : 
More like a poet's dream, in form divine, 
Heaven's prototype of perfect womanhood, 
So lovely was the presence, — than a thing 
Of earth and perishable elements. 
.Vote, had be seen her in her winding-sheet, 
Less painful would that spectacle have proved ; 
For peace is with the dead, and piety 
Bringeth a patient hope to those, who mourn 
O'er the departed; but this alter'd/aee, 
Bearing its deadly sorrow character'd, 
Came like a ghost, which in the grave, 
Could find no rest. He, taking her cold hand, 
Raised her, and would have spok'n , btft his tung, 
FaiVd in its office ; and could only speak 
In under-tone, compassionate, her name. 

The voice of pity — sooth'd, and melted her, 
And, when the prince bade her be comforted., 
Proffering his zealous aid in whatsoe'er 
Might please her to appoint, a feeble smilt 
Past slowly over her pale countenance, 
Like moonlight — on a marble statue. 
For forms of government, let fools contest ; 
Whate'er is best administered — is best: 
For modes of faith— let graceless zealots 6ght ; 
His— can't be wrong, wfcose life — is in the right 
Those hearts, that start at one* into a blaze, 
And open all their ra<e, like summer storms, 
M tdcb *' -charged, gnvr cool again, and calm. 



I<ove of Justice. A sense of /MSfieesLout* 
be the foundation of all our social qualities. In 
our most early intercourse with the world, and 
even in our most youthful amunemcnts, no un- 
fairness should be found. Thai sacred rule, of 
doing all things to others, according as we wish 
they would do unto us, should be engraved on 
our minds. For this end, we should impress our- 
selves with a deep sense of the original and 
natural equality of man. 

Anecdote. When king Agrippa was in a 
private station, he was accused, by one of his 
sc?T(Vits, of speaking ill of Tiberius, and was 
condemned by the emperor to be exposed in 
chains before the palace gate. The weather 
being hot, he was thirsty, and called to Ca- 
ligula's servant, Thaumastus, who was pass- 
ing with a pitcher of water, to give him some 
drink ; assuring him, if he got out of his 
captivity, he would pay him wtll. Tiberius 
dying, Caligula succeeded him, and set Agrip- 
pa at liberty, making him king ofjudea,- in 
which situation, he remembered the glass o( 
water, sent for Thaumastus, and made him 
controller of his household. 

Varieties. 1 . The following is the title of a 
book, published in England, in Cromwell's 
time : "Curious custards, carefully conserved 
for the chickens of the covenant, and spar- 
rows of the spirit, and the sweet swallows of 
salvation." 2. Superabundant prosperity, 
tends to involve the human mind in dark- 
ness : it takes away the greatest stimulus to 
exertion, represses activity, renders us idle, 
and inclines us to vice. 3. Venture not on 
the precipice of temptation ; the ground may 
be firm as a rock under your feet, but a false 
step, or a sudden blast, may be your destruc- 
tion. 4. Discretion has been termed the bet- 
ter part of valor ,• and diffidence, the better 
part of knowledge. 5. To combine profun- 
dity with perspicuity, wit with judgment^ 
sobriety with vivacity, truth with novelty, 
and all of them with liberality, are six very 
difficult things. 6. Disguise it as we will, tyr- 
anny is a bitter thing. 7. What accident 
gains, accident may take away. 
Seems, madam ! nay, it is: I know not seem? 
'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, 
Nor customary suits of solemn black, 
Nor windy suspiration of forced breath; 
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, 
Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage, 
Together with all forms, modes, shows of griefj 
That can denote me truly: these, indeed seem, 
For they are actions that a man might play; 
But I have.that — within, which passeth show, 
These— hut the trappings and the suits of wo. 
Sorrow preys upon 
Its solitude, and nothing more diverts it 
From its sad visions of the other world, 
Than calling it, at moments, back to this* 
The busy — have no time for tears. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



181 




ATTENTION, LISTENING, &c, 

497. At- 
r E X T 1 o x— to 

«m esteemed 
or superior 
character, has ; 
nearly the 
same aspect 
as Inquiry, 
and requires 
■Hence: the 
eyes are often 
cast upon the 
ground, some- 
times fixed up- 
on the speak- 
er; hut not too 
pertly, or fami- 
liarly ; when 
looking at ob- 
jects at a distance, and listening to sounds, its 
manifestations are different Inquiry into some 
difficult subject fixes the body in nearly one posi- 
tion, the head somewhat stooping, the eyes poring, 
and the eye-brows contracted. 

Pray you, once more — 
Is not your father grown incapable 
Of reas'nable affairs ? is he not stupid [hear, 

With age, and altering rheums? Can he speak, 
Know man from man, dispute his own estate ? 
Lies he not bed-rid, and again does nothing, 
But what he did being childish. 

Angelo— - 
There is a kind of character in thy life — 
That, to the observer, doth thy history — 
Fully unfold: thyself and thy belongings, 
Are not thine own so proper as to waste 
Thyself upon thy virtue, then on thee. 
Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, 
Not light them for themselves : for if our virtues 
Did not go forth of us, 'twere all as if 
We had them not: spirits are not finely touch'd — 
But to fine issues ; nature never lends — 
The smallest sauple of her excellence ; 
But like a thrifty goddess, she determines 
Herself the glory of a creditor, 
Both tfianks and praise. 

While Chaos, hush'd, stands listening to the noise, 

And wonders at confusion not his own. 

I look'd, I listen'd, dreadful sounds I hear, 

And the dire form of hostile gods appear. 

Yet hear what an unskillful friend may say: 

As if a blind man should direct your way : 

So I myself, tho' wanting to be taught, 

May yet impart a hint, that's worth your thought. 

What can the fondest mother wish for more, 

Ev'n for her darling sons, than solid sense, 

Perceptions clear, and flowing eloquence? 

Mourners. Men are often ingenious, in 
making themselves miserable, by aggravat- 
ing, beyond bounds, the evils, which they are 
compelled to endure. "I will restore thy 
daughter again to life," said an eastern sage 
to a prince, who grieved immoderately for the 
loss of a beloved child,- "provided, thou art 
able to engrave on her tomb, the names of 
three persons, who have never mourned?' 
The prince made inquiry after such persons ; 
trot found the inquiry win, and was silent. 



Maxims. 1. W e shall never be free fronr 
debt, till we learn not to be ashamed of industry 
and ecoyiomy. 2. All should be taught how to 
earn, save and enjoy money. 3. Teach children to 
save everything; not for their own use exclusively, 
for this would make them selfish; teach them to 
share everything with their associates, and never 
to destroy anything. 4. True economy can be a* 
comfortable with a little, as extravagance can with 
much. 5. Never lessen good actions, nor aggrst 
vale evil ones. 6. Good works are a rock; ill one* 
a sandy foundation. 7. Some receive praise, whrt 
do not deserve it. 8. It is safer to learn, than to 
teach. 9. He. who conceals his opinion, has notlung 
to answer for. 10. Reason, like the sun, is com- 
mon to all. 

Anecdote. The late king of England, 
being very fond of Mr. Whiston, celebrated 
for his various strictures on religion, happen- 
ed to be walking with him one day, in Hamp- 
ton Court gardens, during the heat of his per- 
secution. As they were talking upon this 
subject, his majesty observed, " That however 
right he might be in his opinions, it would be 
better, if he kept them to himself:' " Is your 
majesty really senous in your advice?" an- 
swered the old man. " I really am," replied the 
king. " Why. then,'' says W histon, " had Mar- 
tin Luther been of this way of thinking, where 
would your majesty have been at this time?" 
Varieties. 1. What are the three learned 
professions '.' 2. Great minds can attend to 
little things ; but little minds cannot attend 
to great things. 3. To marry a rake, in 
hopes of reforming him, and to hire a high' 
ivayman, in hopes of reclaiming him, are 
two very dangerous experiments. 4. A clear 
idea, produces a stronger effect on the mind, 
than one that is obscure and indistinct. 5. 
Those that are teaching the people to read, 
are doing all they can to increase the power, 
and extend the influence of those that write: 
for the child — will read to please his teachers, 
but the man — to please himself. 6. A faith- 
ful friend, that reproveth of errors, is prefer- 
able to a deceitful parasite. 7. He that follows 
nature, is never out of the way. 8. Time, 
patience, and industry, are the three grand 
masters of the world. 

If music be the food of love, play on; 

Give me excess of it ; that, surfeiting, 

The appetite may sicken, and so die. 

That strain again ; — it had a dying fall ; 

O, it came o'er my ear, like the sweet south, 

That breathes upon a bank of violets, 

Stealing and giviyig odor. Enough, no more j 

'Tis not so sweet now as it was before. 

O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art then* 

That, notwithstanding thy capacity 

Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there, 

Of what validity and pitch soever, 

But falls into abatement and low price, 

Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy 

That it alone is high fantastical. 



188 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 




SURPRISE, WONDER. AMAZEMENT. 

480. An un- 
common object 
produces won- 
der ; if it appears 
suddenly, it be- 
gets surprise, 
which com' nuedj 
produces amaze- 
ment, and if die 
object of wonder 
e Dines gently to 
the mind, and a- 
v;;ts the atten- 
tion by its beamy 
and grandeur, it 
excites admira- 
tion, which is 
a mixture of ap- 
probation and 
wonder; so sure is the observation of the poet; 
Late time shall wonder, that my joys shall raise ; 
For wonder is involuntary praise. 

Wonder ok Amazement— opens the eyes and 
makes them appear very prominent : sometimes 
it raises them to the skies; but more frequently 
fixes them upon the object, if it be present, with 
a tearful look : the mouth is open and the hands 
held up nearly in the altitude of fear ; and if they 
laid anything, they drop it immediately, and un- 
consciously ; the voice is at first low, but so em- 
phatical that every word is pronounced slowly 
and with energy, though the first access of this 
passion often stops all utterance ; when, by the 
discovery of something excellent in the object of 
wonder, the emotion may be called admiration, 
the eyes are raised, the hands are lifted up, and 
clapp'd together, and the voice elevated with ex- 
pressions of rapture. 

Thou art, O God '. the life and light 

Of all this wondrous world we see ; 
Its glow by day, its smile by night, 

Are but reflections caught from thee. 
Where'er we turn, thy glories shine, 
And all things fa,r and bright are Thine ! 
When Day, with farewell beam, delays 

Among the opening clouds of even, 
And we can almost think we gaze 

Through golder vistas into Heaven, 
Those hues, that make the sun's decline 
So soft, so radiant, Lord ! are Thine. 
When Night, with wings of starry gloom, 

O'ershadows all the earth and skies, 
Like some dark, beauteous bird, whose plume 

Is sparkling with unnumber'd eyes, — 
That sacred gloom, those fires divim 
So grand, so countless, Lord ! are Thu "• 
When youthful Spring around us breathe,.- 

Thy spirit warms her fragrant sigh ; 
And every flower the Summer wreathes, 

Is born beneath that kindling eye. 
Where'er we turn, thy glories shine, 
And all things fair and bright are Thine ! 
How inexpressibly various are the charac- 
teristics impressed by the Creator on all hu- 
man beings I Plow has he stamped on each 
iis legible and peculiar properties / How 
especially visible in this the lowest class of an- 
imal life ! The world of insects, is a world 
of itself: how great the distance between it 
ind man! Through all their formp, and 
gradations, how visible are their powers of i 



ih fir net urn, of suffering and resisting, of 
sensibility and insensibility/ 
Importance of Early Principles. If 

men's actions are an effec t of tneir principles, that 
is. of their notions, their belief, their persuasions, it 
must be admitted, \\\n\ jmnciples — early sown ia the 
mind, are the seeds, which produce/n//* and harvest 
in the ripe state of manhood. How lightly soever 
some men may speak of notions, yet, so long as 
the soul governs the body, men's notions must in-' 
fluence their actions, more or less, as they are 
stronger or weaker : and to good or evil, as llier 
are belter or worse. 

Anecdote. Cyrus, the great king of Per- 
sia, when a boy, being at the court of Ins 
grandfather As-fy-a-ges, engaged to perform 
the office of cup-bearer at table. The duty 
of this office required him to taste the liquor, 
before presenting it to the king ,• but with- 
out performing this duty, Cyrus delivered 
the cup to his grandfather ; who observed the 
omission, which he imputed to for get fulness.. 
" No," said Cyrus, " I purposely avoided it: 
because I feared it contained poison : for 
lately, at an entertainment, I observed that 
the lords of your court, after drinking it. be- 
came noisy, quarrelsome and frantic" 

Varieties. 1. In every departure from 
truth, it is the deceit and hypocricy we exert, 
to compass our purpose, that does the evil, 
more than the base falsehood, of which we 
are guilty. 2. It is a strong proof of the 
want of proper attention to our duty, and of 
a deficiency of energy and good sense, to let 
an opportunity pass, of doing or getting 
good, without improving it. 3. Of all the 
passions, jealousy is that which exacts the 
hardest service, and pays the bitterest wages ; 
its service is to watch the success of a rival; 
its wages — to be sure of it. 4. Base envy 
loitliers at another's joy, and hates that excel 
lence it cannot reach. 5. How does the men- 
tal and bodily statures of the ancients, com- 
pare with those of the moderns ? 6. It 
seems like a law of order, that no one shall 
be long remembered with affectum, by a i ace 
whom he has never benefitted. 7. The char- 
ity, that relieves distressed minds, is far su- 
perior to that, which relieves distressed bodies* 
8. Think'st thou — it is honorable — for a no- 
ble man still to remember wrong 1 9. This 
is the monstrosity of love, that the will — ia 
infinite, and the execution — confined; that 
the desire — is boundless, and the act — a slave 
to limit. 

What's in a name; that which we call a rose, 
By any other name — would smell as sweet. 
Glory — is like a circle in the water, 
Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, 
Till, by broad spreading, it disperses to nought. 
God's benison go with you ; and with thoie, 
That would make good of bad, and friends— offices 
The things we must believe— are fieiv, and 2''<»>«- 



PRINCIPLES CF ELOCUTION. 



18$ 




VENERATION, DEVOTION 
481. Ve- 
resa.tiok — 

to parents, 
t e a c li e r s, 
superiors or 
persons of 
eminent vir- 
tue anil at 
tuinments 
is an humble 
kiicl respect- 
ful acknovv- 
- I edgmenl 
of their ex- 
cellemc e, 
and our own 
inferior i ty: 
the head and 
body are in- 
clined a little forward, and the hand, with the 
palm down wards, just raised to meet the inclina- 
tion of the body, and then let fall ngain with ap- 
{prent timidity ami diffidence; the eye is some- 
times lifted up. and then immediately cast down- 
ward, as if unworthy to behold the object before 
it ; the eyebrows drawn down in the most respect- 
ful manner; the features, and the whole body and 
limbs, all composed to- the most profound gravity; 
one portion continuing without much change. 
When veneration rises to adoration of the Al- 
mighty Creator and Redeemer, it is too sacred to 
be imitated, and seems to demand that humble 
annihilation of ourselves, which must ever be the 
consequence of a just sense of the Divine Majesty, 
and our own on worthiness. This feeling is al- 
ways accompanied with more or less of awe. ac- 
cording to the object, place, &c. Respect — is but 
a less degrees of veneration, and is nearly allied 
to modesty. 

f Almighty God ! 'tis right, his Just, 

That earthly frames — should turn to dust; 
Hut O, the sweet, transporting truth, 
The soul — shall bloom in endless youth. 
ftl its sublime research, philosophy 
May measure out the ocean-deep — may count 
The sands, or the sun's rays — but, God ! for thee 
There is no weight nor measure: none can mount 
Up to thy mysteries; Reason's brightest spark, 
Though kindled by thy bght, in vain would try 
To trace thy counsels, infinite and dark: 
And thought is lost, ere thought can soar so high, 
Kven like past moments — in eternity. 
This world — is all a fleeting show, 

For man's illusion given; 
The smiles of joy. — the tears of woe, 
Deceitful shine, deceitful floiv — 

There's nothing true — but Heaven! 
And false the light — on glory's plume, 

As lading hues of even; 
And love, and hope, and beauty's bloom, 
Are blossoms — gather'd for the tomb. — 
There's nothing bright — but Heaven! 
Poor wanderers — of a stormy day, 

From wave — to wave — we're driven, 
And fancy's flash, and reason's ray, 
Serve but to light— the troubled way— 
There's nothing calm — but Heaven! 
He was too good — 
Where ill men were : and was best of all— 
Among the rarest of good ones. 

When usefulness, and pleasure join, 
Perfection— crowns the gTand design 



Anecdote. Pulpit Flattery. On? of thu 
first acts, performed by the young monarch, 
George the Third, after his accession to th* 
throne of England, was, to issue an order, 
prohibiting any of the clergy, who should be 
called before him, from paying him any com- 
pliments in their discourse. His majesty was 
led to this, from the fulsome adulation which 
Dr. Thomas Wilson, prebendary of Westmin- 
ster, thought proper to deliver, in the royal 
chapel ; and for which, instead of thanks, he 
received a pointed reprimand ,• his majesty 
observing, " that he came to hear the praise 
of God, and not his ow?i." 

Love. The brightest part of love is its confi- 
dence. It is that perfect, that unhesitating reli- 
ance, that interchange of every idea and every 
feeling, that perfect community of the heart's se- 
crets and the mind's thoughts, which binds two 
beings together more closely, more dearly thaH 
the dearest of human ties; more than the vow of 
passion, or the oath of the altar. It is that confi- 
dence which, did we not deny its sway, would 
give to earthly love a permanence that we find 
but very seldom in this world. 

Varieties. 1. Some misfortunes seem to 
be inevitable ,• but they generally proceed fro m 
our want of judgment, and prudence. 2. Ig- 
norance of the facts, upon which a science is 
based, precludes much proficiency in that 
science. 3. Trade, like a restive horse, is not 
easily managed ; where one is carried to the 
end of a successful journey, many are thrown 
off by the way. 4. No accident can do harm 
to virtue ; it helps to make it manifest. 5. 
True faith is a practical principle; it is doing 
what we understand to be true. 6. It is very 
difficult to talk and act like a madman, bu« 
not like a fool. 7. Rely not on the compan- 
ions of your pleasure ; trust not the associ- 
ates of your health and prosperity ; it is only 
in the hour of adversity, that we learn the 
sincerity of our friends. 8. The genuine feel- 
ings of human nature, are always the same ; 
and the language of passion every where un- 
derstood. 9. Demosthenes said, that action, 
or delivery, constitutes the beginning, middlt 
and end of oratory. 10. In proportion as a 
truth is great, and transcending the capacity 
of the age, it is either rejected, or forgottuu 

Let me not to the marriage of true minds 
Admit impediments. Love is not love, 

Which alters when it alteration finds, 
Or bends with the remover to remove : 

no! it is an ever-fixed mark, 

That looks on tempests, and is never shaken; 
It is the star to every wandering bark, [ken. 

Whose worth's unknown, altho' his height be ta 
Love's not Time's fool, tho' rosy lips and cheeka 

Within its bending sickle's compass come; 
Love alters not with his brief hours and week* 

But bears it out e'en to the edge of doom. 
If this be error, and upon me prov'd, 

1 never writ nor no man ever lev'd. 



i90 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



SCORN, CONTEMPT 




482. R SEER 
ts ironical 
► pprohation ; 
With a voice 
ami oounte- 
nance of 
mirth, some- 
what exagge- 
rated, we cast 
the severest 
censure ; it is 
hypocritical 
mirth and 
good humor, J 
anil d iffe rs 
from the real 
by the sly, 
arch, satyri- 
cal tones of voice, look and gesture, that accom- 
pany it ; the nose is sometimes turned up, to 
manifest our contempt, disdain. Scorn — is the 
extreme of contempt ; that disdain, which 
springs from a person's opinions of the mean- 
ness of an object, and a consciousness, or belief 
of his own worth and superiority. 

Satan beheld theii flight, 

And to his mates — thus, in derision call'd : 

friends ! why come not on those victors proud? 

Ere while, theyjierce were coming, and when we, 

To entertain them fair, with open front, [terms 

And breast, (what could Ave more ?) propounded 

Of composition — strai't they changed their minds, 

Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell, 

As they would dance; yet for a dance, they rais'd 

Somewhat extravagant and wild, perhaps for 

Joy of offer'd peace ; but I suppose, , 

If our proposals once again were heard, 

H r e should compel them to a quick result. 

483. You pretend to reason? you don't 
so much as know the first elements of the art 
of reasoning: you don't know the difference 
between a category and a predicament, nor 
between a major and a minor. Are you a 
doctor, and don't know that there is a com- 
munication between the brain and the legs? 
2- Sstbeb. He has been an author these twen- 
ty years, to his bookseller's knowledge, if to 
no one's else. 3. Chafe not thyself about the 
ra-'ble's censure: they blame, or praise, but 
as one leads the other. 

O what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! • 
Is U not monstrous, that this player here, 
Bui in a fiction, in a dream of passion, 
Could force his soul so to his own conceit, 
That from her working, all his visage warm'd, 
Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect, 
A broken voice, and his whole function suiting, 
With forms to his conceit ! and all for nothing; 
Fy: Hecuba ! 

What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, 
That he should weep for her 1 

Thou look'st a very statue of surprise, • 
As if a lightning blast had dried thee up, 
And had not left thee moisture for a tear. 
> v. like a broken instrument, beneath 
Hie skillful touch, my joyless heart lies dead ! 
Vor answers to the master's hand divine. 
tVliat can ennoble gots, or slaves, or cowards? 



The Investigation of Thought. While 

investigating the nature of thought, we forget 
that we are thinking: we propose to understand 
that, which, in the very effort to do so, necessa- 
rily becomes the more unintelligible; for while 
we think that we appreciate the desired end, the 
power that enables us to do so, is a part of the 
thing sought, which must remain inexplicable. 
Since it is impossible to understand the nature 
of thought by thinking, it is manifest, that every 
modification of thought, must be quite obscure in 
it* nature; and, for the same reason, in judging 
of what we call ideas, we must use ideas derived 
from the same original, while every judgment is 
only a new modification. Therefore, the only 
true philosophy of mind, must, as to its princi- 
ples, be revealed. Has there been such a revela- 
tion? 

Anecdote. Brotherly Love. A little boy, 
seeing two nestling birds peck at each other, 
inquired of his elder brother, what they were 
doing. "They are quarreling," was the 
reply. "No," replied the other, "that can- 
not be, for they are brotliers." 

VARIETIES. 

But seven wise men the ancient world did know ; 
We scarce know seu'«, who think thems'lv's not so. 
If a better system's thine, 
Impart it freely; or make use of mine. 
3. He, who knows the world, will not be too 
bashful ,■ and he, who knows himself, will 
never b« impudent. 4. To speak all that is 
true, is the part of fools ; to speak more than 
is true, is the folly of too many. 5. Does a 
candle give as much light in the day time, as 
at night 1 G. I am not worthy of a friend, 
if I do not advise him when he is going 
astray. 7. A bad great man, is a great bad 
man ; for the greatness of an evil, makes a 
man's evil greater. 8. All public vices, are 
not only crimes, but rules of error ; for they 
are precedents of evil. 9. Toyish airs, please 
trivial ears ; they kiss the fancy, and then be- 
tray it. 10. Oh ! what bitter pills men swal- 
low, to purchase one false good. 

As ; de the devil turn'd, 
For envy, yet with jealous leer malign, 
Ey'd them askance, and to himself thus plain'd : 
Sight hateful, sight tormenting! thus these two, 
Liiparadis'd in one another's arms, 
The happier Eden shall enjoy their fill 
Of bliss on bliss : while I to hell am thrust. 
Where neither joy nor love, bin nerce desire, 
Among our other torments, not the least, 
Still unfulfilled, with pain of longing pines. 
Learning i3 an addition beyond 
Nobility of birth : honor of blood, 
Without the ornament of knowledge, is 
A glorious ignorance. 
Self-love never yet could look on Truth, 
But with blear'd beams ; sleek Flattery and she 
Are twin-born sisters, and so mix their eyes, 
As if you sever one, the other dies. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



19 




FEAR, CAUTION. 
48*. Fear 
uapowerful 
emotion, excited 
by expectation of 
Borne evil, or ap- 
prehension of im- 
pending danger; 
it expresses less 
appieli elision 
than dread, and 
this less than ter- 
ror or fright: it 
excites us to pro- 
vide for our secu- 
rity on the ap- 
proach of evil; 
nomelimes settles 
into deep anxie- 
ty, or solicitude : 
it may be either filial in the good, or slavish in 
the wicked. See the engraving for its external 
appearance, and aiso Terror or Fright. 

Now, all is husWd — and still, as death! 

How reverend is this tall pile, 

Whose ancient pillars rear their marble heads, 

To bear aloft its arch'd and ponderous roof, 

By its own weight made steadfast and immovable, 

Looking — tranquillity ! it strikes an awe, 

And terror on my aching sight. [cold, 

The tombs, and monumental caves of death, look 

And shoot a chillness to my trembling heart. 

Give me thy hand, and let me hear thy voice; 

Nay. quickly speak to me, and let me hear 

Thy voice — my own af-J rights me with its echoes. 

Tis night.' the season when the happy — take 

Repose, and only witches are awake ; 

Now. discontented ghosts begin their rounds, 

Haunt ruin'd buildings and unwholesome grounds. 

First, Fear — his hand its skill to try, 

Am'd the chords bewilder'd laid ; 
And back recoil'd, he knew not why, 

Ev'n at the sound himself had made. 
A sudden trembling— seized on all his limbs, 
His eyes distorted grew, his visage— -pale; 
His speech forsook him ! 

Full fast he flies, and dares not look behind him; 
Till, out of breath, he overtakes his fellows, 
Who gather round, and wonder at the lots of 

horrid apparitions. 
Come, old sir, — here's the place — stand still ; 
How fearful 'tis to cast one's eyes so low ! 
The crows and choughs, th't wing the midway air, 
Show scarce so gross as beetles. Halfway down, 
Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade ! 
Methinks he seems no bigger than one's head; 
The fishermen th't walk upon the beach, 
Appear like mice, and yon tall anchoring bark, 
Seems lessen'd to a skiff;— her skiff a buoy, 
Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge, 
That on unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes, 
Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more, 
Lest my brain turn, and the disorder make me 
Tumble down headlong. 

Anecdote. A nobleman, traveling in 
Scotland, was asked for alms, in Edinburgh, 
by a little ragged boy. He told him he had no 
change; upon which the boy offered to pro- 
Hire it. H is lordship finally gave hira a piece 



of silver, which the boy conceiving was to bt 
cluinged, went for that purpose,- but, on hi* 
return,not finding his benefactor, he watched 
several days ; at length the gentleman passed 
thai way; when the boy accosted him, and 
gave him all the change, counting it with 
great exactness. The nobleman was so 
pleased with the boy's honesty, that he placed 
him at school, with the assurance of provide 
ing for him afterwards; which he did, and 
that boy became an ornament to humanity. 
■ Etiquette of Stairs. In showing a vis- 
itor — up or down stairs, always precede him, 
or her : there is a common error upon this 
subject, which ought to be corrected. Some 
persons will suffer you to precede them ; even 
when they hold the light. Gentlemen should 
always precede ladies, up and down stairs. 

Etiquette of Riding. The gentleman 
should keep the lady on the right hand, that 
she may the more conveniently converse with 
nim, and he may the more readily assist her, 
in case of accident. 

Varieties. 1. When you have bought 
one fine thing, you must buy ten more ; so 
that your appearance may all be of a piece. 
2. Miraculous evidence, is inefficacious for 
producing any real, or permanent change in 
one's confirmed religious sentiments; and 
this is the reason, that no more of the Scribes 
and Pharisees of old, embraced the christian 
religion. 3. The great secret, by which hap- 
piness is to be realized, is to be contented 
with our lot, and yet strive to make it better, 
by abstaining from everything that is evil. 4. 
Every one is responsible for his own acts : all 
must be judged according to their deeds. 5. 
Is it not much easier to blame, than to avoid 
blame"? 6. What is the difference between 
good and evil? 7. What makes us so dis- 
contented with our condition, is the false and 
exaggerated estimate, we form of the happi- 
ness of others. 8. It is much easier to plunge 
into extravagance, than to reduce our ex- 
penses ; this is pre-eminently true of nations, 
as well as individuals. 9. Be decisive, oe 
mild, according to circumstances. 10. Suii 
your conduct to the occasion. 

As flame ascends, 
As bodies to their proper centre move, 
As the pois'd ocean to the attracting moon 
Obedient swells, and every headlong stream 
Devolves its winding waters to the main, 
So all things which have life aspire to God, 
The sun of being, boundless, unimpair'd, 
Centre of souls. 

Nature 
Never did bring forth a man without a man; 
Nor could the first man, being but 
The passive subject, not the active mover, 
Be the maker of himself; so of necessity, 
There must be a power superior to nature. 
Spare not, nor spend too much ; be this your cr»— 
■Spare — but to spend, and only spend lo yiar*. 



192 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



SIMPLE LAUGHTER. 
Rail- 




4S3 

Sry — may sig- 
nify a banter- 
ing, a prompt- 
ing to the use 
ot' jesting lan- 
guage; good 
humored pleas- 
antry. or slight 
■atire; satirical 
merriment, wit, 
irony, bur- 
lesque. 1 1 i a 
very difficult 
indeed, to mark 
the precise 
boundaries o f 
the different 
passions, as 
some of them 
are so slightly touch'd, and often melt into each 
other ; but because we cannot perfectly delineate 
every shade of sound and passion, is no reason 
why we should not attempt approaches to it. 

4S6. Raillery, without animosity, puts on the 
aspect of cheerfulness ; the countenance smiling, 
and the lone of voice sprightly. 

Let me play the fool 
W.th mirth and laughter ; so let the wrinkles come. 
And let my liver rather heat with wine, 
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. 
Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, 
Sit like his grands ire cut in alabaster? 
Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice, 
By being peevish ? I tell thee what, Antonio, 
(I love thee, and it is my love that speaks,) 
There are a sort of men, whose visages 
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond, 
And do a willful stillness entertain, 
With purpose to be drest in opinion 
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit, 
As, who should say, I am Sir Oracle, 
And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark ! 
I'll tell thee more of this another time ; 
But fish not with this melancholy bait, 
For this fool's gudgeon, this opinion. 
Come, good Lorenzo, fare-ye-well a while, 
I'll end my exhortation after iinner. 

48 7. Miscellaneous. 1. It is impossi- 
ble, to estimate, even an inconsiderable 
effort to promote right education. 2. It is 
said, that a stone, thrown into the sea, agi- 
tates every drop of water in that vast ex- 
panse ; .so it may be, in regard to the influ- 
ence we exert on the minds of the young. 3. 
Who can tell, what may be the effect of a sin- 
gle good principle, deeply fixed in the mind; 
&. single pure and virtuous association strong- 
ly riveted, or a single happy turn given to the 
tlurughts and affections of youth? It may 
spread a salutary and sacred influence over 
the whole life, and thro' the whole mass of the 
child's character. Nay more ; as the charac- 
ter of others, who are to come after him, may, 
end prcbably will depend much on his, the im- 
fulse we give cannot cease in him, who first 
Motived it, it will go down from one generation 
to another, wilening and deepening, and 
-eaching forth with various modifications, till 



the track of its agency shall exceed human 
sight and calculation. 

Anecdote. The duke of Orleans, on be- 
ing appointed regent of France, insisted on 
the power of jmrdoning: " I have no objec- 
tion," said he, " to have my hands tied from 
doing harm ; but I will have them free to do 
good." 

Truth. Truth will ever be unpalatable to 
those, who are determined not to relinquish 
error, but can never give offence to the hon- 
est and well-meaning : for the plain-dealing 
remonstrances of a friend — differ as widely 
from the rancor of an enemy, as the friendly 
probe of a surgeon — from the dagger of an 
assassin. 

Varieties. 1. Envy is blind to all good; 
and the ruling passion of the envious is, to 
detract from the virtues of others. 2. A good 
person will have no desire to influence oth- 
ers, any farther than they can see that his 
course is right. 3. Good fortune, however 
long continued, is no pledge of future secu- 
rity. 4. Cases often occur, when a prudent 
and dignified confession, or acknowledgment 
of error, gives to the person making it, a de- 
cided advantage over his adversary. 5. Agi- 
tation is to the moral and mental world, 
what storms are to the physical world ; what 
winds are to the ocean, what exercise is to 
the body. 6. Truth can never die,- she is 
immortal, like her Author. 7. There are a 
great many fools in the world: he who would 
avoid seeing one, must lock himself up alone, 
and break his looking glass. 8. What we 
do ourselves — is generally more satisfactori- 
ly done, than what is done by others. 9. Such 
is the state of the world, at present, that 
whoever wishes to purchase anything, must 
beware. 1 0. The opposite of the heavenly vir- 
tues and principles, are the principles of hell. 
A fool, a fool, I met a fool i'th'forest, 
A motley fool, a miserable varlet; 
As I do live by food, I met a fool, 
Who laid him down, and bask'd him in the sun, 
And rail'd on lady Fortune in good terms; 
In goodseZ terms, and yet a motley fool; 
Good morrow, fool, quoth I ; No, sir, quoth he, 
Call me not fool, til. heav'n hath sent mefortuiu, 
And then he drew a dial from his poak, 
And looking on it, with lack-lustre eye, 
Says, very wisely, It is ten o'clock ; 
Thus may we see, quoth he, how the woi'd vri(i 
'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, 
And after one hour more 'twill be eleven, 
And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, 
And then from hour to hour we rot and rot, 
And thereby hangs a tale. When I did hear 
The motley fool thus moral on the time, 
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, 
That fools should be so deep contemplatrta 
And I did laugh sans intermission 
An hour by his dial. O noble fool ! 
A worthy fool ! motley's the only wear 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



193 




HORROR. 
48 S. Hor- 
ror — ts an ex- 
cessive degree 
of fear, o r a 
jsah.ful emo- 
tion, which 
makes a per- 
son tremble: it 
is generally 
composed o f 
fear and ha- 
tred or disgust; 
the recital of a 
bio oily deed 
fills one with 
horror; there 
are the horrors 
of war, and the 
horrors of famine, horrible places and horrible 
dreams; the ascension seems to he as ibllows-. the 
fearful and dreadful, (affecting the mind more than 
the hody.) the ("rightful, the tremendous, terrible 
and horrible: tne fearful wave; the dreadful day; 
frightful convulsions; tremendous storms; terrific 
glare of the eyes ; a horrid murder. 

Hark ! — the death-denouncing trumpet — sounds 
The fatal charge, and shouts proclaim the onset. 
Destruction — rushes dreadful to the field, 
And bathes itself in blood. Havoc let loose, 
Now undistinguished — rages all around; 
While ruin, seated on her dreary throne, 
Sees the plain strew'd with subjects, truly hers, 
Breathless and cold! 

489. Plotting Cruelty axd Horror! Mac- 
beth's soliloquy before murdering Duncan. (Start- 
ing.) " Is this a dagger, which I see before me ?" 
(Courage.) "The handle toward my hand? Come, 
let me clutch thee :" ( Wonder.) " I have thee not ; 
and yet I see thee stiU. n (Horror.) i: Art thou not, 
fatal vision, sensible to feeling— as to sight? or art 
thou but a dagger of the mind ? a false creation, 
proceeding from the \eot-oppress'd brain?" (Eyes 
itaring, arvt ji?yy}, to one voir.t.) "I see thee yet, 
in fori a as palpable as that which now I draw." 
(Here draws his oian, and compares them.) "Thou 
marshall'st me the way that I was going ; and 
tuch an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are 
made the ftcls of the other senses, or else worth all 
the rest : I see thee still; and on thy blade and dud- 
geon, gouts of blood, which was not so before." 
(Doubting.) " There's no such thing." (Horror.) 
" It is the bloody business, which informs thus to 
m ne eyes. Now, o'er one-half the world, nature 
teems dead, and wicked dreams abuse the cur- 
tam'd sleep; now witcht.raft — celebrates pale He- 
tote's offerings; and withered murder, alarmed by 
nis sentinel, the wolf, whose hoivVs his watch, thus 
with his stealthy pace, towards his design — moves 
like a ghost. Thou sound andfirm-sel earth, hear 
not my steps, which way they walk, for fear the 
very stones prate of my whereabout, and take the 
present horror from the time, which now suits 
with it. While I threat, he lives— I go, and it is 
done ; the bel! invites me. (A bell rings.) Hear it 
aot, Duncan; for it is a knell, that summons thee 
K) fuaven, or to hell. 

3/Iusu! oh! how faint, how weak! 
Lasgva *h — fades before thy spell; 

Why shouid/eeZt'ng— ever speak, 
When thou canst breathe her soul — so well. 
BitONSON. 13 



Woman's IiOve. As the dove will clasp its 
icings to its side, and cover and conceal the urrow, 
that is preying on its vitals, so is the naturt of wo- 
man, to hide from the world the pangs of wcunded 
affection. 

Anecdote. Swearing nobly Reproved 
Prince Henry, son of James II., had a partic- 
ular aversion to the vice of swearing, and 
pi-ufanation of the name of God. When at 
play, he was never known to use bad words; 
and on being asked the reason, why he did 
not swear, as well as others, answered, that 
he knew no game worthy of an *.»ath. The 
same answer he gave at a hunting rrstch, 
when the almost spent stag was killed by a 
butcher's dog, that was passing along the 
road ; the huntsmen tried to irritate the prince 
against the butcher, but without succeeding. 
His highness answered coolly, "Tiue, the 
dog killed the stag, but the butcher could not 
help it." They replied, that if his fat her had 
been served so, he would have siuorn so, as 
no one could have endured it. "Away," said 
the prince, " all the pleasure in the world is 
not worth an oath." 

Varieties. 1. A selfish person is never 
contented, unless he have every thing his own 
iuay,a.nd have the best place, and be put first 
in every thing ; of course, he is generally un- 
happy. 2. The mind of man is, of itself, 
opaque,- the Divine mind alone, is luminous. 
He is the light of both worlds, the natural and 
spiritual. 3. Is it not better to remain in a 
state of error, than to understand something 
of a truth, and then reject it, because we do 
not understand it fully? 4. Guilt was never 
a rational thing ; it disturbs and perverts the 
faculties of the mind, and leaves one no long- 
er the use of his reason. 5. All evils, in their 
very nature, are contagious, like the plague; 
because of the propensity to evil, into which 
every one is born,- therefore, keep out of tho 
infected sphere as much as possible. 6. Is 
the eye tired with beautiful objects, or the ear 
with melodious sounds ? Love duty, then, 
and performance will be delightful. 7» Seek 
only good; thus, pleasure comes unsought. 
When twilight dews are falling fast, 

Upon the rosy sea ; 
I watch that star whose beam so ofl 

Has lighted me to thee ; 
And thou, too, on that orb so dear, 

Ah ! dost thou gaze at ev'n, 
And think, tho' lost forever here, 

Thou'lt yet be mine in heav'n ! 
There's not a garden walk I tread, 

There's not a flower I see ; 
But brings to mind some hope that's fled, 

Some joy I've lost with thee ; 
And still I wish that hour was near, 

When, friends and foes forgiven, 
The pains, the ills we've wept thro' here, 

May turn to smiles in heaven! 
He help'd to bur y, whom he help d o i 



19i 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTIOxW 




WEEPING. 

490. W E E F- 

»n g — is the ex- 
pression, or mani- 
festation, of sor- 
row, grief, an- 
guish or joy, by 

u t-c r y , or by 
shedding tears; 
a lamentation, be- 
wailing, bemoan- 
ing: we may weep 
each other's woe, 
or weep tears of 
joy ; so may the 
rich groves weep 
odorous gum and 
balm ; there is 
weeping amber, 
and weeping grounds : crying — is an audible ex- 
pression, accompanied, or not, with tears; but 
weeping always indicates the shedding of tears; 
and, when called forth by the sorrows of others, 
especially, it is an infirmity of which no man 
would be destitute. 

491. Whither shall I return? Wretch 
that I am ! to what place shall I betake my- 
self? Shall I go to the capilall Alas! it is 
overflowed with my brother's blood/ or, shall 

1 return to my house ? yet there, I behold my 
mother — plunged in misery, weeping and de- 
spairing. 2. I am robbed ! I am ruined ! 

my money! my guineas ! my support ! 
my all is gone ! Oh ! who has robbed me 1 
who has got my money ? where is the thief? 
A thousand guineas of gold ! hoo, hoo, hoo, 
hoo ! 3. I cannot speak — and I could wish 
you would not oblige me, — it is the only ser- 
vice I ever refused you : and tho' I cannot 
give a reason why I could not speak, yet I 
hope you will excuse me without reason. 
Had it pleased heaven 

To try me with affliction ; had it rained 
All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head ; 
Steeped me in poverty to the very lips ; 
Given to captivity, me and my utmost hopes ; 

1 should have found in some part of my soul 
A drop of patience; but, alas ! to make me 
A fixed figure, for the hand of scorn 

To point his slow unmoving finger at— 

Oh— 

I am not prone to weeping, as our sex 

Commonly are ; the want of which vain dew, 

Perchance shall dry your pities ; but I have 

That honorable grief lodged here, which burns 

Worse than tears drown. 

Why tell you me of moderation ? 

The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste, 

And violenteth in a sense as strong [it? 

As that which causeth it: How can I moderate 

If I could temporize with my affection, 

Or brew it to a weak and colder palate, 

The like allayment could I give my grief; 

My love admits no qualifying dro63 : 

No more my grief, in such a precious loss. 

When o»/ souls shall leave this dwelling, 

The glory of one fair and virtuous action 

Is above all the scutcheons on our tomb, 

Or siiken barners over us. 



Historians. We find but/eio historians m 
all aces, who have been dilgent en nigh in theil 
search for truth ; it is their common method, to 
take on trust, what they distribute to the pvblic, 
by which means, a. falsehood. Once received from 
a famed writer, becomes traditional to posterity. 
Anecdote. Washington and his Mother. 
Young George was about to go to sea, as a 
midshipman ; every thing was arranged, the 
vessel lay out opposite his father's house, the 
little boat had come on shore to take him off, 
and his whole heart was bent on going. At- 
ter his trunk had been carried down to the 
boat, he went to bid his mother farewell, and 
he saw the tear bursting from her eye. How- 
ever, she said nothing to him ; but he saw that 
Ins mother would be distressed if he went, 
and perhaps never be happy again He just 
turned round to the servant and said, " Go 
and tell them to fetch my trunk back ; 1 will 
not go away, to break my mother 's heart." 
His mother was struck with his decision, and 
she said to him, " George, God has promised 
to bless the children, that honor their parents, 
and I believe he will bless you. 

Varieties. 1. Timotheus — an ancient 
teacher of oratory, always demanded a doubU 
fee from those pupils, who had been taught 
by others ; for, in this case, he had not only 
to plant, but to root out. 2. He, that short- 
ens the road to knowledge, lengthens life. 3. 
Never buy, or read bad books ; for they are 
the worst of thieves ; because they rob you 
of your money, your time, and your pri?io 
pies. 4. Theocracy — is a government by God 
himself; as, the government of the Jews; 
democracy — is a government of the people. 
5. Without the intenseness and passion of 
study, nothing great ever was, or ever will 
be accomplished. 6. Who can tell where 
each of the natural families begins, or where 
it ends ? 7. To overcome a bad habit, one 
must be conscious of it ; as well as know how 
to accomplish the object, 8. The best defen- 
ders of liberty do not generally vociferate 
loudly in its praise. 9. Domestic feuds can 
be appeased only by mutual kindness and 
forbearance. 10. Volumes of argument* 
avail nothing against resolute determination; 
for convince a man against his will, and he if 
of the same opinion still. 

When William wrote his lady, to declare, 
That he was wedded to a fairer fair, 
Poor Lucy shrieked, 4i to life, to all adieu ; w 
She tore the letter, — and her raven hair, 
She beat her bosom, and the post-hey too; 
Then wildly — to the window flew, 
And threw herself— into a chair. 
AH is silent — 'twas my fancy ! 
Still as the breathless interval between 
The flash and thunder. 
Who never fasts, no banquet e'er enjoy$. 
Who never toils or watches, hever sleep*. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



195 




SLMPLE BODILY PAIN 

492. Pais 
■nay be either bo- 
dily, or mental ; 
simple, or acute. 
Bodily pain, is 
an uneasy sensa- 
tion in the body, 
of any degree 
from that which 
» slight, to ex- 
treme toi lure ; it 
may proceed 
from pressure, 
'.enston, separa- 
tion of parts by 
violence, or de- 
rangement of the 
functions : men- 
tal pain — is un- 
easiness of mind; disquietude; anxiety; solici- 
tude for the future; grief or sorrow for the past: 
thus we suffer pain, when we fear, or expect evil ; 
and we feel pain at the loss of friends, or proper- 
ty. Pain, and the like affections, indicate a pres- 
sure or straining. 

The play of pain 
Shoots o'er his features, as the sudden gust 
Crisps the reluctant lake, that lay so calm 
Beneath the mountain shadow ; or the blast 
Ruffles the autumn leaves, that, drooping, cling 
Faintly, and motionless to their lov'd boughs. 

What avails [pain, 
Valor or strength, though matchless, quelled with 
Which all subdues, and makes remiss the hands 
Of mightiest? Sense of pleasure we may well 
Spare out of life, perhaps, and not repine; 
But live content, which is the calmest life; 
But pain is perfect misery, the loorst 
C*f evils! and, excessive, overturns 
All patience. 

And not a virtue in the bosom lives 
That gives such ready pay as patience gives ; 
That pure submission to the ruling mind, 
Fixed, but not forced; obedient, but not blind; 
The will of heaven to make her own she tries, 
Or makes her own to heaven a sacrifice. 
The dream of the injured patient mind, 

That smiles at the wrongs of men, 
Is found in the bruised and wounded rind 

Of the cinnamon, sweetest then ! 

Anecdote. The Philosopher Outdone. A 
learned philosopher, being in his study, a lit- 
tle girl came for some fire. Says the doctor, 
" But you have nothing to take it in ;" and as 
he was going to fetch something, the girl, 
taking some cold ashes in one hand, put the 
live coals on with the other. The astonished 
•age threw down his books, saying, " With 
all my learning, I should never have found 
out that expedient." 

Soon shall thy arm, unconquered steam ' afar 

Drag the slow barge, or drive the rapid car ; 

Or, on wide-waving icings expanded, bear 

The flying chariot— through the fields of air. 
rhe brave— do never shun the light ; 
Just ari their thoughts, and open are their tempers ; 
Truly, without disquiet, they love, or hate; 
Still are they found — in the fair face of day ; 
And heaven— and men— a:e judges of their actions. 



Proverbs. 1. The true economy of every- 
thing is — to gather up the fragments of time, aa 
well as of materials. 2. The earlier children are 
taught to be useful, the better ; not only for them- 
selves, bui for all others. 3. Consider that day as 
lost, in which something has not been done for the 
benefit of others, as well as for yourself. 4. F alse 
pride, or foolish ambition, should never induce us 
to live beyond our income. 5. To associate with 
influential and genteel people, with an appearance 
of equality, has its advantages ; especially, where 
there are sons or daughters just entering on the 
stage of action; but. like all other external advan- 
tages, they have their proper price, ani may 
be bought too dearly; "never pay loo much for 
the whistle/'' 6. Never let the cheapness of an ar- 
ticle tempt you to purchase it. if you do noi really 
need it; for nothing is cheap, that we do not iva*ii. 
7. Vanity and pride must yield to the dictates of 
honesty and prudence. 

Miscellaneous. Great Britain — has dot- 
ted over the surface of the globe, with her 
possessions and military posts ; and Iter morn- 
ing drum-beat, following the sun, and keep- 
ing company with the hours, circle the earth 
daily, with one unbroken strain of the mar- 
tial airs of England. The steam-engine is on 
the rivers, and the boatman may rest upon 
his oars; it is in the highways, and begins 
to exert itself along the courses of land-ccr:- 
veyances; it is at the bottom of mines, a 
thousand feet below the surface of the earth ; 
it is in the mill and in the workshop of the 
traders,- it rows, it pumps, it excavates, it 
ploughs, it carries, it draws, it lifts, it ham- 
mers, it spins, it weaves, it prints ,- and seems 
to say to artisans, Leave your manual labor, 
give over your bodily toil, use your skill and 
reason to direct my power, and I will bear 
toil, with no muscle to grow weary, no nerve. 
to relax, no breast to feel faintness. 

VAHIETIES. 

Cease, mourners ; cease complaint and weep .no 
Your friends are not dead, but gone before; [more ; 
Advanced a stage or two — upon the road, 
Which you must travel in the steps they trode. 
True valor, friends, on virtue founded strong, 
Meets all event? alike. 

Preach patience to the sea, when jarring winds, 
Throw up the swelling b'How to the sky ; 
And if your reason mitigate her fury, 
My soul will be as calm- 
Contention, like a horse, 

Full of high feeding, madly hath broken. Ioote, 
And bears down all before him. 
The day shall come, that great avenging day, 
When Troy's proud glories in the dust shall lay 
Send thy arrows forth, 

Strike ! strike the tyrants, and avenge my tears. 
Slander, that worst of poisons, ever finds 
An easy entrance to ignoble minis. 
Other sins — only speak, — murder — shrieks out 
The element of water — moistens the earth; 
But blood — flies upward, and bedews the heavent 



196 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



AtfUTEFAIN, 

Bodily, or 



|il|h de 

which 




493 

menial, signifies a 
degree of pain, 
may appro- 
priately be called 

AGONY. Or ANGUISH ; 

die agony is a se- 
vere B p d perma- 
nent pain ; the an- 
guish an over- 
whelming pain : a 
pang — is a sharp 
ram, and generally 
of short contin- 
uance : the pangs 
of conscience fre- 
quently trouble the 
person who is not 
hardened in guilt; 
and the pangs o disappointed love are among 
the severest to lie home : ,l What panss the ten- 
der breast of Dido tear!" Complaimxc — (as 
when one is under violent pain.) distorts the fea- 
tures, almost closes the eyes ; sometimes raises 
•hem wistfully ; opens the mouth, gnashes the 
teeth, draws up the upper lip, draws down the 
tiead upon the breast, and contracts the whole 
l>ody : the arms are vioier.tly bent at the elbows, 
and the fists clenched, the voice is uttered in 
groans, lamentations, and sometimes in violent 
••creams : extreme torture producing fainting and 
.lealh. 

Oh, rid me of this torture, quickly there, 
My madam, with thy everlasting voice. 
Phc bells, in time of pestilence, ne'er made 
Like noise, or were in that perpetual motion. 
All my house, [breath : 

But now, streamed like a bath, with her thick 
A lawyer could not have been heard, nor scarce, 
Another woman, such hail of words she let fall. 
i. What! the rogue who robtfd me 7 do 
Meg him, drown him, burn him, flay liim 
alive. 3. Hold your tongue, we don't want 
to hear your nonsense about eating ; hold 
your tongue, and answer the questions, which 
the justice is going put to you, about the mo- 
rtzy I lost, and which I suppose you have 
talten. 

fide not thy tears : weep boldly — and be proud 
To give the flowing virtue manly way. 
Tis nature's mark, to know an honest heart by. 
Shame on those breasts of stone, that cannot melt, 
In soft adoption of another's sorrow! 
O, who can hold a fire in his hand, 
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? 
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite, 
By a bare imagination of a feast? 
Or wallow naked in December snow, 
I3y thinking on fantastic summer's heat 
JO, no ! the apprehension of the good, 
Gives but the greater feeling to the worse : 
Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more, 
Than when it bites, but lanceth not the sore. 
Anecdote. A rich Campanian lady, fond 
of pomp and show, being on a visit to Corne- 
lia the illustrious mother of the Gracchii, 
displayed her jewels and diamonds ostenta- 
tiously, and requested that Cornelia should 
ahow her jewels. Cornelia turned the conver- 
•ation to another subject, till her sons should 



return from the public schools ,- one when 
they had entered their mother's apartment, 
she, pointing to them, said to the lady 
" These are my jewels ; the only ornament* 
I admire" 

Laconics. 1. If we complained less, and 
tried to encourage and help each other more, we 
should find all our duties more easily performed. 
2. Happiness — consists in the delight of perform 
ing uses for the sake of uses : that is, doing good 
for the sake of good, instead of the love of reward, 
which is a selfish feeling : ajl selfish feelings pro 
duce unhappiness in the degree they are enter- 
tained. 3. If we would be happy, we must put 
away, as far as we can, those thoughts and feel- 
ings, that have reference to self alone, and culti- 
vate the higher ones, that have reference to the 
good of others, as well as ourselves. 4. To do 
good, for the sake of delight in doing good, is a 
selfish motive; but to do good to others, for the 
sake of making them happy, and, in doing it, for- 
get ourselves, is a heavenly motive. 5. If we 
would act from right motives, we must endeavor 
to put away every feeling, that is purely selfish; in 
doing which, every effort will give us strength, 
like the repeated efforts of a child, in learning to 
tvalk. 6. Parents should keep their children from 
every association that may tend to their injury, 
either in precept or practice. 7. Love is omnipo- 
tent. 

Varieties. 1. That profusion of lan- 
guage, and poverty of thought, which is call- 
ed being spontaneous, and original, is no 
proof of simplicity of heart, or freedom of 
understanding ; there is more paper than 
gold, more words than ideas, in this " care- 
less wealth." 2. Combined with goodness 
and truth, okatoby is one of the most glo- 
rious distinctions of man ; it is a power, that 
influences all : it elevates the affections and 
thoughts to enthusiasm,- and animates us 
in joy, and soothes us in sorrow; instructs, 
guides, and persuades us. 3. To resolve a 
proposition into its simplest elements we 
must reason a posteriori; by observing the 
relation of sequences, we are enabled io sup- 
ply an tecedents, involving the same relation; 
thus, amounting to the simplest state of a 
proposition. 

What nothing earthly gives, or, can destroy, 
The soul's calm sunshine, and the hearfelt^oy, 
Is virtue's prize. 
The friends thou hast, and their adoption triti, 
Grapple them to thy soul, with hooks of steel. 
Mind, — can raise, 
From its unseen conceptions, where they lie, 
Bright in their mine, forms, hues, that lot k Eternttf 
Is it the language of some other state, 
Born of its memory? For what — can wake 
The souVs strong instinct— of another world, 
Like music? 
Without good company, all dainties 
Lose their true relish, and like painted jrapea, 
Are only seen, not tasted. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



197 




ADMIRATION 
494. A mix- 
ed passion, con- 
sisting of won- 
der, mingled 
with pleasing 
emotions; as 
veneration, love, 
esteem, takes' 
away the famil 
tar gesture and| 
expression of 
simple love : it 
is a compound 
passion, excited 
by some thing 
nov si, rare, 
great, or excel- 
lent, either of 
persons or their 
works : thus we 
view the solar system with admiration. It 
keeps the respectful look and attitude ; the eyes 
are wide open, and now and then raided to- 
wards heaven ; the mouth is open ; the hands 
lifted up ; the tone of voice rapturous ; speaks 
copiously and in hyperboles. Admiration — 
is looking at any thing attentively with appre- 
ciation ; the admirer suspends his thoughts, not 
from the vacancy, but from the fullness of his 
mind : he is riveted to an object, which tem- 
porarily absorbs his faculties : nothing but what 
is good and great, excites admiration ; and none 
but cultivated minds are very susceptible of it ; 
an ignorant person cannot admire : because he 
does not appreciate the value of the thing : the 
form and use must be seen at any rate. 

How beautiful the world is ! The green 
earth, covered with flowers — the trees, laden 
with rich blossoms — the blue sky and the 
bright water, and the golden sunshine. 
The world is, indeed, beautiful; and He, who 
made it, must be beautiful. 

It is a hajyf y world. Hark ! how the mer- 
ry birds sing — and the young lambs — see ! 
how they gambol on the hill-side. Even the 
trees wave, and the brooks ripple, in glad- 
ness. Yon eagle! — ah! how joyously he 
soars up to the glorious heavens — the bird of 
America. 

" His throne — is on the mountain-top ; 

His fields— the boundless air ; 
And hoary peaks, that proudly prop 

The skies — his dwellings are. 
He rises, like a thing of light, 

Amid the noontide blaze : 
The midway sun — is clear and bright ; 
It cannot dim his gaze." 
.t is happy — I see it, and hear it all about 
lot — nay, I feel it here, in the glow, the elo- 
quent glow of my own heart. He who 
made it, must be happy. 

It is a great world! Look off to the mighty 
ocean, when the storm is upon it; to the 
huge mountain, when the thunder and the 
lightnings play over it ; to the vast forest, 
the interminable waste ; the sun, the moon, 
and the myriads of 'fair stars, countless as the 
sands upon the sea-shore. It is a great, a 
magnificent world, — and He, who made it, 
oh ! He is the perfection of all loveliness, all 

eoodntss, all greatness, all glory. 

b2 



How this grace 
Speaks his own standing ! what a mental power 
This eye shoots forth f how big imagination 
Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture 
One might interpret. 
Old men and beldames, in the streets, 
Do prophecy upon it dangerously ; 
Young Arthur's death is common in their mouths} 
And when they talk of him they shake their he'd*. 
And whisper one another in the eai ; 
And he that speaks doth gripe the hearer's wrist* 
Whilst he that hears, makes fearful action, 
With wrinkl'd brows, with nods, with rolling oye» 
I saw a smith stand with his hammer thus, 
The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool, 
With open mouth, swallowing a tailor's news ; 
Who, with his shears and measure in his hand, 
Standing on slippers, (which his nimble haste 
Had safely thrust upon contrary feet,) 
Told of a many thousand warlike French, 
That were embattled and rank'd in Kent ■ 
Another lean unwash'd artificer * 
Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur's death. 

Anecdote. It was so natural for Dr. 
Watts to speak in rhyme, that even at the 
very time he wished to avoid it, he could not 
His father was displeased at this propensity < 
and threatened to whip him, if he did not 
leave off making verses. One day, when he 
was about to put his threat in execution, the 
child burst into tears, and on his knees, saids 
Pray father, do, some pity take, 
And I will no more verses make. 

Varieties. 1. What is a better security 
against calumny, and reproach, than a good 
conscience ? 2. What we commence — from 
the impulse of virtue, we too often continue, 
from the spur of ambition ; avarice, herself, 
is the offspring of independence and virtue 

3. Wealth, suddenly acquired, will rarely 
abide; nothing but quiet, consistent industry, 
can render any people prosperous and happy. 

4. Did you ever think seriously of the design, 
and uses of the thumb ? 5. Music, in prac» 
tice, may be called the gymnastics of the of 
fections. 6. The difference between honor^ 
and honesty — seems to be principally in the 
motive,- as the honest man does that from 
love and duty, which the man of honor doeSj 
for the sake of character. 7. If there be anr 
thing, which makes one ridiculous, to being? 
of superior faculties, it must be pride. 8. 
As is the mother, so is the daughter ; thin'6 
of this ye mothers, and improve. 

The rich are wise : 
He that upon his back rich garments wears, 
13 wise, though on his head grow Midas' ears. 
Gold is the strength, the sinews of the world ; 
The health, the soul, the beauty most divine ; 
A mask of gold hides all deformities ; 
Gold is heav'n's physic, life's restorative. 

O credulity, 
Thou hast as many ears, as fame — has tovguta 
Opened — to every sound of truth, as falsehood 



m 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 




ADMIRATION AND ASTONISHMENT, 
49 !i. Implies 
confusion, arising 
from surprise, &c. 
at an extraordina- 
ry, or unexpected 
event: astonish- 
ment signifies to 
strike with the 
overpowering 
voice of thunder; 
we are surprised 
if that does, or 
does not happen, 
which we did, or 
did not expect ; 
astonishment may 
be awakened by 
similar events, 
which are more 
unexpected, and 
more unaccountable : thus, we are astonished 
Co find a friend at our house, when we suppos- 
ed he was hundreds of miles distant; or to hear 
that a person has traveled a road, or crossed a 
stream, that we thought impassable. 
These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, 
Almighty! thine this universal frame, [then! 
Thus wondrous fair ! Thyself, how wondrous, 
Unspeakable I who sitt'st above these heavens, 
To us — invisible, or dimly seen 
In these thy lowest works : yetthese declare 
Thy goodness, beyond thought, and power divine. 
See, what a grace was seated on this brow ! 
Hyperion curls ; the front of Jove himself: 
An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; 
A station, like the herald Mercury, 
New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill. 
4 combination, and a form indeed, 
Where every god did seem to z?t his seal, 
Yo give the w^rld assurance of a man. 
What ./iwd I here 1 

/air Portia's counterfeit? What demi-goA 
Hath come so near creation ? Move their eyes 1 
Or, whether riding on the ball of mine, 
Seem they are in motion ? Here are sever'd lips, 
Parted with sugar breath : so sweet a bar [hairs, 
Should sunder such sweet friends: Here, in her 
The painter plays the spider, and hath woven 
A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men, 
Faster than gnats in cobwebs.— But her eyes I 
How could he see to do them ! having made one, 
Methinks it should have power to steal both his, 
And leave itself unfinished. 

Anecdote. While Thucidydes was yet a 
boy, he heard Herodotus recite his histories, 
at the Olympic games, and is said to have 
wept exceedingly. The " Father of Histori- 
ans," observing how much the boy was mov- 
ed, congratulated his fat her, on having a child 
of such promise, and advised him to spare no 
vain a in his education. Thucidydes became 
one of the best historians of Greece. 
Wise legislators never yet could draw 
A. fox within the reach of common law ; 
For posture, dress, grimace, and affectation, 
Though foes to sense, are harmless to the nation ; 
Our last redress is dint of verse to try, 
4nd satire is our Court of Chancery. 



Maxims. I. Never consider the opinions % 
others in a matter that does not concern them. 
2. It is of but little use to argue a point with one, 
whose mind \smade up on the subject. 3. Beware 
of objections, founded on wrong ideas. 4. A wo- 
man's conclusions are generally proof against 
the most eloquent reasonings. 5. Look within 
instead of without, for the true criterion of ac 
tion, and be manly and independent. 6. Let tha 
square and rule of life be — Is it ritrht? 7. B* 
cautious in yielding your better judgment to ln« 
wishes of outers. 8. We generally err, in under- 
taking — what we do not understand. 9. They 
will surely be wise, who profit by experience. 10. 
A clear head — makes sure work. 

Temperance. Happy are they that have 
made their escape from the drinking custom of 
the world, and enrolled their names amongst the 
friends of Temperance ; for, by so doing, they 
have most probably escaped from an early death. 
Death, not only of the body, but of the soul, for 
the habit of intoxication is calculated to destroy 
both. 

Varieties. 1. When once you profess 
yourself & friend, be always such. 2. Blimt 
not, before you have examined: understand, 
then rebuke. 3. Some people will never 
learn anything ; for this reason, they under- 
stand everything too soon. 4. Who can cal- 
culate the importance of learning to say, No. 
5. By following the order of Providence, and 
obeying the laws of life and being, we shall 
not become fatigued. 6. Abstraction, is the 
power, which the understanding has, of 
separating the combinations, which are pre- 
sented to it ; it is also called the power of con- 
sidering qualities, or attributes of one object, 
apart from the rest. 7. There is a Provi- 
dence in the least of man's thoughts and ac- 
tions; yea, in all his common and trifling 
concerns. 

Words are like leaves ; and where they most a- 
Much fruit of sense beneath,is rarely found. fbound 
False eloquence — like the prismatic glass, 
Its gaudy colors spreads on every place : 
The face of Nature — we no more survey, 
All glares alike, without distinction gay : 
But true expression, whate'er it shines upon, 
It gilds all objects, but it alters — none. 
Expression is the dress of thought, and still 
Appears more decent— as more suitable. 

A just man cannot fear ; 

Not, though the malice of traducing tongues 

The open vastness of a tyrant's ear, 

The senseless rigor of tfie wrested laws, 

Or the red eyes of strain'd authority, 

Should, in a point, meet all to take his lift* 

His innocence is armor 'gainst all these. 

Music so softens and disarms the mind, 
That not an arrow does resistance find; 
Thus the fair tyrant celebrates the prize, 
And acts herself the triumph of her eyes; 
So Nero once, with harp in hand, survey'd 
His flaming Rome, and as it burn'd, he play a 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



1W 




496. The Minor, axd some of the Ma- 
jor Passioxs. The following common ex- 
pressions are full of meaning : such judg- 
ments are passed every day, concerning dif- 
ferent individuals ; " You might have seen it 
in his eyes : the looks of the man is enough; 
he has an honest countenance : his manner 
sets every one at his ease ; I will trust him 
for his honest face ; should he deceive me, I 
will never trust any body again ; he cannot 
look a person in the face ,- his appearauce is 
against him ; he is better (or worse,) tnan I 
took him to be." 

497. Admoni- 
tion — assumes a 
grave air bordering 
•in severity ; the 
head is sometimes 
shaken at the per- 
son we admonish, 
as if we felt for the 
miseries he was 
likely to bring up- 
on himself; the 
na\'d is directed to 
the person spoken 
to, and the fore-f n- 
ger, projected fiO/r. 
the rest. se°ms to 
point morp paruou- 
larly to thr danger 
we give warning 
of; the voice assurr±s a low pitch, bordering on a 
monotone, with a mixture of severity and sympa- 
thy of pity, and reproach. 

Miscellaneous. I. The habituating chil- 
dren to work for, and serve the poor, particu- 
larly poor children, with a good will, may 
justly be regarded, as tending to promote the 
reception of the highest order and quality of 
heavenly virtue. 2. It is not in knowing the 
will of God, but in doing it, that we shall be 
blessed. 3. The noblest aspect in which the 
divine majesty of the Lord can be viewed, 
is that, in which he pnse?ited himself, when 
he said, (hat he "came, not to be ministered 
unto, but to minister ,•" and how great a priv- 
ilege ought we to esteem it to be, to follow 
his example. 4. What a pity it is, that pa- 
rents and teachers are not more anxious to 
mend the heart, than furnish the heads of 
their children and pupils! 5. Charity is 
something more than a word, or wish; it is 
the consistent practice of true wisdom. 
Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus, 
Another thing — \ofall. I not deny — 
The jury, passing on the prisoner's life, 
May, on the sworn twelve, have a thief or two, 
Guiltier than him they try ; what's open made 
To justice, that it seizes on. What know [nam, 
The laws, that thieves do pass on thieves ? 'tis preg- 
The jewel that we find, we stoop and tak't 
Because we see it ; but what we do not see, 
We tread upon, and never think of it. 
You may not so extenuate his offence, 
For I have had such faults ; but rather tell me 
When 7. that censart him. do not so offend, 
Let mine own judgiient pattern out my death 
And nothing come i i partial. He must die. 



Maxims. 1. If a person /etj wrong, le will 
be very sure to judge wrong, and thence d* 
wrong. 2. Passions strong, judgment wro4$g, all 
die world over. 3. Always do the very best ybu 
can, and then you'll be a wise man. 4. C hildren 
should be encouraged to do, whatever they un- 
dertake, in the very best manner. 5. He who 
aims low, can never hit eoralted objects; and he 
who is accustomed to do the best he can, in kicer 
things, will be best prepared to attain excellence- 
in the highest. 6. Children should never be al- 
lowed to fall into habits of disorder in anything ; 
nor permitted to put things out of order, or maks 
work for others. 7. Of goods, pi efer the greatest f 
of evils choose the kast. S. Children are always 
more attracted and interested by* oral instruction, 
than by book instruction. 

Anecdote. A Quaker — wasVaited on by 
four of his workmen, to make their compli- 
ments to him, and ask for th&r usual New- 
year's gifts. The Quaker told -them, Tjiere are 
your gifts, — choose fifteen francs, or the Bi- 
ble. All took the francs, but a lad, about 
fourteen, who chose the Bible, as the Qua- 
ker said it was a good book; and, on opening 
it he found, between the leaves, a gold piece 
of forty francs. The others held down their 
heads, and the giver told them, he was sorry 
they had not made a better choice. 

Varieties. 1. We cannot be truly just, 
without prudence, or truly prudent, without 
justice; because prudence leads us to in- 
quire what is just ; and justice alone can 
prevent that perversion of intellect taking 
place, which often passes for prudence, but is 
only cunning, the offspring of selfishness. 
2. Temperance signifies the right use of the 
Hght things, furnished b , nature for our en- 
joyment, so that they may not injure, but 
benefit us ; and instead of unfitting us fav- 
our duties, dispose and fit us for their per- 
formance. 3. He, who is not temperate, is a 
slave to his appetites and passions ; the slave 
of drinking, gluttony and lust ; of pride, 
vanity and ambition ; because he is not at 
liberty to be, what he was created to be. 
The prophet spoke : when, with a gloomy frown, 
The monarch started — from his shining throne ; 
Black choler filled his breast, that boil'd with »«^ 
And, from his eyeballs, flashed the living fire. 
Of beasts, it is confessed the ape — 
Comes nearest us — in human shape ; 
Like nzan, he imitates each fashion / 
And ma/ice — is his ruling passion. 

I hate, when vice can holt her arguments, 

And virtue — has no tcngue, to check hcrpruk. 
But not to me return 
Day, or the sweet approach of even and morn, 
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark 
Surrounds me. 

If sweet content is banished from my soul, 

Life grows a burden, and a weight of woe. 

Yusic — moves us, and we know not why ; 

We feel the tears, but cannot trace their so«re» 



JOO 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 




498. Affirming, 
with a judicial oath, ii 
axprAtoed by liftinf, •'..> 
the r gin hand and eyes 
towardftheaven ; if con- 
science be applied to, 
by lay ng tlie r gin hand 
upon the breast exactly 
upon the heart ; the voice 
low anil solemn, t h e 
words stow and deliber- 
ate; hut when the affir- 
mation is mixed with 
rage or resentment, the 
Voice is more open and 
loud, the words quicker, 
and the countenance has all the confidence of a 
strong and peremptory assertion. 

Not es. The Duke had reproached Lord Thurlow with his 
plebeian eitractiou and his recent admission to the peerage. He 
rose from Hie woolsack and advanced slow ly to the place from 
which the chancellor addresses the house, then fixing his eye on 
ihe Uub<: (in the worts of a spectator,) " with the look of Jove 
when he has grasped the thunder," spoke as follows : 

My Lords — I am amazed ; yes my Lords. I am 
amazed at his grace's speech. Tlie noble duke 
cannot look before him. behind him, or on either 
side of him, without seeing some noble peer, who 
owes his seat in this house to his successful ex- 
ertions, in the profession to which I belong. Does 
he not feel that it is as honorable, to owe it to 
these, as to being the accident of an accident? To 
all these noble lords, the language of the noble 
duke is as applicable, and as insulting, as it is to 
myself. Hut I don't fear to meet it single and 
alone. No one venerates the peerage more than 
I do — but, my lords, I must say, that the peerage 
solicited me, — not I the peerage. 

Nay more, — I can say. and will say, that as a 
peer of parliament. — as speaker of this right hon- 
orable house, as keeper of the great seal. — as 
guardian of his majesty's conscience, — as lord 
high chancellor of England — nay, even in that 
character alone, in which the noble duke would 
think it an affront to be considered — but which 
character none can deny me — as a man, I am. at 
this true, as much respected, as the proudest peer 
I now look down upon. 

A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd! 
Well fitted in the arts, glorious in arms ; 
Nothing becomes him ill, that he would well. 
The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss, 
(If virtue's gloss will stain with any soil,) 
Is a sharp wit match'd with too blunt a will : [wills 
Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still 
It should none spare that come within his power. 
Anecdote. Butler, Bishop of Durham, 
and author of the Analogy, being applied to 
for a charitable subscription, asked his steward 
what money he had in his house ; the stew- 
ard informed him there were five hundred 
pounds. " Five hundred pounds .'" said the 
bish ip ; " what a shame for a bishop to have 
bucIi a sum in his possession !" And he or- 
dered it all to be given to the poor immedi- 
ately. 

Bold with joy, 
Forth from his lonely hiding-place, 
(Portentous sight !) the owlet Atheism, 
Paling on obscure wings athwart the noon, 
D?t? » bis blue-fringed lids, and holds them close, 
And, hooting at the glorious sun in heaven, 
tr.es out, "Whore is it?" 

The wc-ld t ! still deceived by ornament. 



Tjnconics. I have s»en the flower — v itha» 
ing oil the stalk, and its bright leaves— spread oa 
the ground. 1 looked again; it sprung forth 
afresh f its stem was crowed with new buds, and 
its sweetness rilled the air. I have seen the sun 
set in the west, and the shades of night shut in 
the wide horizon: there was no color or shape, 
nor beauty, nor music; gloom and darkness brooded 
around. I looked ! the sun broke, forth again upon 
the east, and gilded I he motmfam-tops ; the lark 
rose — to meet him from her low nest, a ad the 
shades of darkness fled away. I have seen the 
insect, being come to its full si/.e, languish, and re- 
fuse to eat: it spun itself a tomb, and was shroud- 
ed in the silken cone: it lay without/eer, or shape, 
or -power to move. I looked again : it had burst its 
tomb; it was full of life, and sailed on colored 
wings through the soft air ; it rejoiced in its new 
being. 

Varieties. 1. Many a young lady can 
chatter in French or Italian, thrum tlie piano, 
and paint a little, and yet be ignorant of 
housekeeping, and not know how even to 
make a loaf of bread, roast a piece of meat, 
or make a palatable soup. 2. It is a false 
idea to think of elevating woman to her right 
position of intelligence and influence in so- 
ciety, without making her thoroughly and 
practically acquainted with the details of do- 
mestic life. 3. It is wrong for either men err 
women, to bury themselves in their every- 
day avocation, to the neglect of intellectual 
and moral culture, and the social amenities 
of life : but it is still worse to give exclusive 
attention to the latter, and utterly neglect the 
former ; because, in the former are involved 
our first and most important duties?. 4. Neg- 
lected duties never bring happiness: even 
the best of society would fail to delight, if 
enjoyed at the expense of human duties. 5. 
That which is our duty should always take 
precedence : otherwise no effort to obtain 
happiness can be successful. 
Still — let my song — a nobler note assume, 
And sing the impressive force of Spring on man: 
Then, heaven — and earth, as if contending, — via 
To raise his being, — and serene — his soul. 
Can he forbear — to join — the general smile 
Of nature? Can fierce passions — vex his breast, 
While every gale is peace, and every grove 
Is melody ? 

The happiness — of human kind, 
Consisis — in rectitude of mind. — 
A will — subdued to reason^ sway, 
And passions — practiced to obey: 
An open — and a generous heart, 
Refined from selfishness — and art; 
Patience, which mocks — ai fortune's powci^ 
And wisdom — neither sad. nor sour. 
Never forget our loves, — but always cling 
To the fixed hoj>e— ih't there ivill he a tin's.- 
When we can meet — unfettered — and be ilttt~> 
With ihe full happiness — of certain hive 
A villain, when he most seems kind, 
Is most to be suspected. 



PR1NCIPLLS OF ELOCUTION. 



20 




499. Revtstow. 
Having gone thro', 
briefly, with the ma- 
jor passions, and 
given illustrations 
of each, before dis- 
miss ng these im- 
portant subjects, il 
may be use fu 1 to 
present the minor 
ones; occasion utty 
alluding to the prin- 
cipal ones. The ac- 
comr anying engra- 
ving represents 
calm rbrtitude, dis- 
cretion, benevo- 
lence, goodness.and 
nobility. Admira- 
tion may also be 
combined with amazement: surprise, (which sig- 
nifies — taken on a sudden.) may, for a moment, 
startle; astonishment may stupefy, and cause an 
entire suspension of the faculties; but amazement 
has also a mixture of perturbation; as the word 
means to b^ in a maze, so as not to be able to 
collect one's self: there is no mind that may not, 
at times, be tiyown into amazement at the awful 
dispensations Of Providence. 

ADMONITION TO ACT JUSTLY. 

Remember March, the ides of March remember ! 
Did not great Julius — bleed for justice' sake? 
What villain touch'd his body, — that did stab, 
And not for justice? 
What.' shall one of us, 

That struck the foremost man — of all this world, 
But for supporting robbers, shall we — nolo — 
Contaminate out fingers with base bribes? 
And sell the mighty space of our large honors, 
For so much trash — as may be grasped tfiuj? 
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, 
Than such a Roman. 

Anecdote. Ethelwold, bishop of Win- 
chester, in king Edgar's time, sold the gold 
and silver vessels belonging to the church, to 
relieve the poor, during a famine, saying: 
" There is no reason, that the senseless tem- 
ples of God, should abound in riches, while his 
living temples ware perishing with hunger." 

domestic love and happiness. 
O happy they ! the happiest of their kind ! 
Whom gentle stars unite, and in one fate 
Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings blend. 
Tis not the coarser tie — of human laws, 
"Unnatural oft, and foreign to the mind, 
That binds their peace, but harmony itself, 
Attuning all their passions into love; 
Where friendship — full, exerts her softest power, 
Perfect esteem, enliven'd by desire 
Ineffable, and sympathy of soul; 
Thought, meeting thought, and ivill preventing will, 
With boundless confidence: for nought but love 
Can answer love, and render bliss secure. 

Merit — seldom shows 
Itself— bedecked in tinsel, or fine clotiees; 
But, hermit-\\ke, 'tis oft'ner us'd to fly, 
And hide its beauties — in obscurity. 
For p-aces in the court, are but like beds— 
In the hospital; where this man's head — lies 
▲t that nan's foot, and so, tower and lower. 



Laconics. 1. The idle— often delay till to. 
morrow, what ought to be done to-day. 2. Science 
is tne scribe, and theology the interpreter of God's 
works. 3. Regret is unavailing, when a debt is 
contracted; tho' a little prudence, might have pre- 
vented its being incurred. 4. A loud, or veh.vtient 
mode of delivery, accompanied by a haughty ac- 
tion, may render an expression highly offensive; 
but which would be perfectly harmless, if pro- 
nounced properly. 5. Dishonesty chooses the most 
expeditious route ; virtue the right one, though it b« 
more circuitous. 6. Is the soul a mere vapor, a 
something without either essence or form? 7. Im- 
pressions, firmly fixed in the mind, and long cher- 
ished, are erased with great difficulty; how impor- 
tant, then, they should be good ones. 

Difficulty — is a severe instructor, set yvet 
us by the supreme ordinance of a parental 
guardian and legislator, who knows us better 
than we know ourselves, and he loves us bet- 
ter too. He, that wrestles w i th us, strengthens 
,our nerves, and sharpens our skill. Our an- 
tagonist is our helper. This amicable conflict 
with difficulty obliges us to an intimate ac- 
quaintance with our object, and compels us 
to consider it in all its relations. It will lut 
suffer us to be superficial. 

VARIETIES. 

Sleep — seldom visits sorrow; 
When it docs, it is a comforter. 
Why, on that brow, dwell sorrow and dismay, 
Where loves were wont to snort, and smiles to plaj 
With equal mind, what happens, let us bear, 
Hot joy, nor grieve too much, for things oeyond <xx arts. 
Thus, my fleeting days, at last, 
Unheeded, silently are passed, 
Calmly — shall I resign my breath, 
In life — unknoion,— forgot — in death. 
Love — never reasons, but profusely gives; 
Gives, like a thoughtless prodigal, its nil. 
And trembles then, lest it has done too little 
Tho' all seems lost, 'tis impious — to despair; 
The tracks of Providence — like rivers — wind. 
Wliy shrinks the soul 
Back on herself, and startles at destruction? 
Tis the Divinity — that stirs within us. 
Still raise — for good — the supplicating voice, 
But leave to Heaven the measure, and the choice) 
Safe in His power, whose eye discerns afar 
The secret ambush of a specious prayer. 
Implore His aid; in His decisions rest; 
Secure — whate'er He gives, he gives the best. 
Yet when tho sense of sacred presence fires, 
And strong devotion — to the skies aspires, 
Pour forth thy fervors — for a healthful mind, 
Obedient passions, and a will resigned ; 
For love, which scarce colle tive man can £., 
For patierxe. sovereign o'er transmuted ill; 
For faith, that, panting for a happier seat. 
Counts death — kind nature's signal of retreat: 
These goods — for man — the laws of heaven ordmm, 
These goods He grants, who grams the power t« 
W ith these celestial wisdom calms the mind, [gain. 
And makes the happiness — she does i\oi find. 
Call it divtrsion. and the fill goes dew*. 



202 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



500. Arguing requires a cool, sedate, atten- 
tive aspect, and a close, Blow, and emphatical 
kcriMit, wiili much demonstration by t he hand ; 
it assumes somewhat of authority, as if fully 
convinced of what it pleads for; and sometimes 
liscs to great vehemence and energy of action : 
the voice clear, distinct, and firm as in confidence. 

SEASONING WITH DEFERENCE TO OTHERS. 

Ay, but yet- 
Let us be keen, and rather cut a little, [tleman, 
Than fall and bruise to death. Alas! this gen- 
Whom I would save, had a most noble father! 
Let hut your honor know, (whom I believe 
To be most straight in virtue) whether, in 
The working of your own affections, [ing. 

Had time cohered with place, or place with wish- 
Or, that the resolute acting of your blood, [pose, 
Could have attairi'd the effect of your own pur- 
Whether you had not some time in your 'ife, 
Err'd in this point, you censure now" in him, 
And pull'd the law upon you. 

50 1. Affectation — displays itself in a thou- 
sand different gestures, airs, and looks, accord- 
ing to the character which the person affects. 
Affectation of learning — gives a stiff formality to 
the whole person : the words come stalking out 
with the pace ofafuneral procession, and every 
sentence has the solemnity of an oracle. Affec- 
tation— of pity — turns up the goggling whites of 
the eye to heaven, as if the person was in a 
trance, and fixes them in that posture so long, 
that the brain of the beholder grows giddy : 
then comes up deep grumbling, a holy groan 
from the lower part of the thorax, butso tremen- 
dous in sound, and so long protracted, that you 
expect to see a goblin rise, like an exhalation 
from the solid earth : thus he begins to rock, 
from side to side, or backward and forward, like 
an aged pine on the side of a hill, when a brisk 
wind blows : the hands are clasped together, 
and often lifted, and the head shaken with fool- 
ish vehemence ; the tone of voice is canting, or 
a sing-song lullaby, not much removed from an 
Irish howl, and the words godly doggerel. Af- 
fectation of Beauty, and killing — puts a fine 
woman, by turns, into all sorts of forms, appear- 
ances and attitudes, but amiable ones : she un- 
does by art, or rather awkwardness, all that na- 
ture has done for her ; for nature formed her al- 
most an angel : and she, with infin te pains, 
makes herself a monkey : this species of affec- 
tation is easily imitated, or taken off: in doing 
which, make as many, and as ugly grimaces, mo- 
tions and gestures, as can be made ; and take 
care that nature never peeps out ; thus you may 
represent coquettish affectation to the life. 

Anecdote. A nobleman advised a bishop 
to make an addition to his house, of a new 
wing, in modern style. The prelate answer- 
ed him, " The difference between your ad- 
vice and that which the devil gave to our Sa- 
viour — is, that Satan advised Jesus to change 
stones into bread, that the poor might be fed ; 
and you desire me to turn the bread of the 
poor into stones. 

A wise poor man, 
Is like a eacred book that's never read ; 
To himself he lives, and to all else seem3 dead : 
This age thinks better of a gilded foo M 
Than of a threadbare saint in wisdom's school. 
Cheerful looks— make every dish — a feast, 
And '.U th.ni— crowns a welcome. 



Laconics. 1. To know — i3 pne thing, to d». 
is another. 2 Consider what is said, rather than 
who paid it : and the consequence of the argu- 
ment, rather than the consequence of him, who 
delivers it. 3. These proverbs, maxims, and lacon- 
ics, are founded on the fads, that mankind are the 
same, and that the passions are the disturbing 
forces; the greater or less prevalence of which, 
give individuality to character. 4. If parents 
give their children an improper education, whose 
is the misfortune, and whose the crimes ? 5. The 
greater your facilities are for acquiring knowl- 
edge, the greater should be your efforts : and ge- 
nius — is the power — of making efforts. 6. The 
world's unfavorable views of conduct and cha- 
racter, are as floating clouds, from which the 
brightest day is not free. 7. Never marry — but 
for love ; and see thai thou lovest only what is 
lovely. 

This World. What is the happiness that 
this world can give 1 Can it defend us from dis- 
asters ? Can it preserve our heart3 from grief, 
our eyes from tears, or our feet from falling ? 
Can it prolongour comforts ? Can it multiply our 
days? Can it redeem ourselves, or our friends 
from death ? Can it soothe the king of terrors, 
or mitigate the agonies of the dying? 
varieties. 

Three poets, in three distant ages born, 

Greece, Italy, and England did adorn. 

The first in loftiness of thought surpassed ; 

The next, in majesty ; in both, the last. 

The force of nature could no further go ; 

To make a third, she join'd the former tvyo. 

Under a portrait of Milton — Dryden. 
The poetry of earth is never dead! — 

When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, 

And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run, 
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead; 
That is the grasshopper's ; — he takes the lead 

In summer luxury ; — he has never done 

With his delights ; for when tired out with fun 
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed 
The poetry of earth is ceasing never!— 

On a lone winter evening, when the frost 
Has wro't a silence from the stove, there shrills 
The cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever, 

And seems to one, in drowsiness half lost, 
The grasshopper's among some grassy hills. 
Believe me, if all those endearing young charms, 

Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, [arms, 

Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my 

Like fairy gifts fading away ; [thou art, 

Thou wouldst still be ador'd, as this moment 

Let thy loveliness fade as it will, 
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart, 

Would entwine itself verdantly still. 
It is not while beauty and youth are thy own, 

And thy cheeks unprofan'd by a tear, 
That the fervor and faith of a soul can be known. 

To which time will but make thee more dear. 
Oh ! the heait that has truly lov'd, never forget% 

But as truly loves on te the close ; 
As the sunflower turns on her god, when he sets; 

The same look which she turn'd when he l w» 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



203 



503. Authority— opens the countenance, but 
draws the eye-brows a little, so as to give the look 
an air of grav~*y. 

ATTTHORITY FORBIDDING COMBATANTS TO FIGHT. 

Let them lay by their helmets and their spears, 

And both return back to their chairs again :— 

Withdraw from us,— and let the trumpet sound; 

Draw near — 

And list what, with our council, we have done. 

For that our kingdom's earth— should not be soil'd, 

With that dear blood which it haih foster -d ; 

And for our eyts— doth hate the dire aspect, 

Of civil wounds, plough'd up with neighbor's swords: 

Therefore, we banish you our territories: 

You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of death. 

Till twice five summers have enriched our fields, 

Shall not regret our fair dominions, 

But tread the stranger paths of banishment. 

504. Philosophers say, that man is a mi- 
crocosm, or a little world, resembling in mi- 
niature every part of the great ; and, in our 
opinion, the body natural may be compared 
to the body politic ; and if that be so, how 
can the Epicurean's opinion be true, that the 
universe was formed by a fortuitous concourse 
of atoms? which we will no more believe, 
than that the accidental jumbling of the let- 
ters of the alphabet could fall by chance into 
a most ingenious and teamed treatise of phi- 
losophy. 

On pain of death, — no person be so bold 
Or daring hardy, as to touch the lists, 
Except the marshal, and such officers 
Appointed to direct these fair designs. 

THE BOOK OF NATURE. 

Let fancy — lead, 
And be it ours— to follow, and admire, 
As well we may, th<°. graces infinite 
Of nature. Lay aside the sweet resource 
That winter needs, and may at will obtain, 
Of authors, chaste and good, and let us read 
The living page, whose every character 
Delights, and gives us'wisdom. Not a tree, 
A plant, a leaf, a blossom, but contains 
A folio volume. Wc may read, and read, 
And read again, and still find something new, 
Something to please, and something to instruct, 
Ven in the noisome iceed. 

Anecdote. Eat Bacon. Dr. Watson, late 
bishop of Landaff, was enthusiasticalhj at- 
tached to the writings of Lord Bacon ; and 
considered, that no one, desirous of acquiring 
real sound knowledge, could read the works 
of that great man too often, or with too much 
tare and attention. It was frequently re- 
Marked by him — " If a man wishes to become 
toise, he should eat Bacon." 

Making Resolutions. Never form a re- 
solution that is not a good one; and, when 
once formed, never break it. If you form a 
resolution, and then break it, you set your- 
self a bad example, and you are very hkely 
to follow it. A person may get the habit of 
breaking his resolutions; this is as bad to 
ine character and mind, as an incurable dis- 
tase to the body. No person can become 



great, but by keeping his resolutions ; no per 
son ever escaped contempt, who could not 
keep them. 

Laconics. 1. Writing and printing serve a* 
clothing to our ideas, by which they become visi- 
ble in forms, and permanent in duration; thus, 
painters speak of embodying the fleeting color* 
of be&\i\i(\A flowers, by fixing them in some earth- 
ly substance. 2. When the pupil of our intellectual 
eyes becomes adjusted to the darkness of en or, 
genuine truth dazzles and blinds us. 3. Habit caa 
oniy get the litter of habit; but beware of chang*. 
ing one bad habit for another. 4. The torch of 
improvement, is destined to pass from hand to 
hand; and what, tho' we do not see the order? 5 
When nature is excited, she will put forth her & 
forts; if not in a right, in a wrong way. 6. Ctn- 
sent — is the essence of marriage, the ceremonies — its 
form, and the duties — its uses. 

Physiological Ignorance — is undoubt- 
edly, the most abundant source of our sufferings: 
every person, accustomed to the sick, must have 
heard them deplore their ignorance — of the neces- 
sary consequences of those practices, by which 
their health lias been destroyed: and when men 
shall be deeply convinced, thai the eternal laws of 
Nature have connected pain and decrepitude with 
one mode of life, and health and vigor with another, 
they will avoid the former, and adhere to the latter 
It is strange, however, to observe, that the gener 
ality of mankind do not seem to bestow a singl* 
thought on the preservation of their health, till it it 
too late to reap any benefit from their conviction, 
If knowledge of this kind were generally diffused* 
people would cease to imagine, that the human 
constitution was so badly contrived, that a state 
of general health could be overset by every trifle,; 
for instance, by a little cold; or that the recovery 
of it lay concealed in a few drops, or a pill. Did 
they better understand the nature of chronic dis- 
eases, and the causes which produce them, they 
could not be so unreasonable as to think, that they 
might live as they choose, with impunity : or did 
they know anything of medicine, they would soon 
be convinced, that though fits of pain have beeD 
relieved, and sickness cured, for a time, the re-es- 
tablishment of health— depends on very different 
powers and principles. 

Tis doing wrong — creates such doubts. These 
Render us jealous, and destroy our peace. 

Though wisdom — wake, 
Suspicion sleeps at wisdom's gate, and to simpliatf 
Resigns her charge ; while goodness thinks nod* 
Where no ill seems. 
'Tis god-like magnanimity — to keep, 
When most provoked, our reason calm, and clemr 
Christianity — depends on fact; 
Religion — is not theory, but act. 
Amid thy bowers — the tyrant's hand is Been, 
And desolation — reddens all thy green. 
No ; there is none, — no ruler of the stars ; 
Regardful of my miseries, — saith despair. 
Calm, and serene, he sees approaching deuthf 
As the safe port, the peaceful, silent shore, 
Where he may rest, — life's tedious voyage o'er. 



t04 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



505. Buffoonery— assumes a sly, arch, leer- 
ing gravity ; nor must ii quit the serious? aspect, 
though all should split their sides: which com- 
maiui of countenance is somewhat difficult, but 

not so hard to acquire, as to restrain the contrary 
sympathy— that of weeping when others weep. 
Examples will suggest themselves, -ommaxding 
requires a peremr .ory air. a severe a..d stern look: 
the h md is held out, and moved towards the 
perso'i to whom the order is given, with the palm 
upwards, and sometimes it is accompanied with 
a significant nod of the head to the person ad- 
dress'd. If the command be absolute, and to a 
peTson unwilling to obey, the right hand is extend- 
ed and projected forcibly towards him. 
We were not born to sue, but to command ; 
Which, since we cannot do, to make yoafriends, 
Be ready— as your/('m shall answer it, 
At Coventry, upon St. Lambert's day ; 
There — shall your swords — and lances arbitrate 
The swedmg differenct-. uf your settled hate ; 
Since we cannot stay you, you shall see 
Justice — decide the victor's chivalry. 
Lord Marshal — command our officers at arms, 
Be ready — to direct these home alarms. 

Silence, ye winds, 
That make outrageous war upon the ocean : 
And thou, old ocean ! lull thy boisterous waves; 
Ye wavering elements, be hushed as death, 
While I impose my dread commands on hell; 
And thou, profoundesl hell ! whose dreadful sway 
Is given to me by fate and demi-gorgon — [gions; 
Hear, hear my powerful voice, thro 1 all thy re- 
And from thy gloomy caverns thunder the reply. 
Begone ! forever leave this happy sphere: 
For perjur'd lovers have no mansions here. 
Look round the habitable world, how few 
Know their own good, or, knowing it, pursue. 

Happiness — does not consist so much in 
outward circumstances and personal gratify- 
cations, as in the inward feelings. There 
can be no true enjoyment of that, which is 
not honestly obtained ; for a sense of guilt in- 
fuses into it a bitter ingredient, which makes 
it nauseous. What pleasure can the drunli- 
ard have in his cups, when he knows, that 
every drop he swallows, is so much dishon- 
estly taken from his wife and children ; and, 
that, to satisfy his brutal propensity, they are 
deprived of the necessaries of life? 

Anecdote. Dr. Franklin. The follow- 
ing epitaph, was written by himself, many 
years previous to his death: "The body of 
Benjamin Franklin, Printer, (like the cover 
of an old book, its contents torn out, and 
Btripp'd of its lettering and gilding,) lies here 
food for worms ; yet the work itself shall not 
be lost; for it will, (as he believed,) appear 
once more in a new and more beautiful edi- 
tion, corrected and amended by the Author." 
He is a parricide to his mothers name, 
And with an impious h.ind murthers her fame, 
rhat wrongs the praise sf women; that dares write 
Libels on saints, or with foul ink requite 
She milk they lent us. 

None think tl e great unhappy, but the great. 



Laconics. 1. Every act of apparent diw 
der and destruction, is, when contemplated arigl^ 
and taking in an immeasurable lapse of ages, the 
most perfect order, wisdom, and love. 2. As it re- 
spects the history of our race, scarcely the first 
hour of man has yet passed over our heads ; why 
then do we speak of partiality? 3. In turning 
our eyes to the regions of darkness, in the history 
of man, as well as to those of light, we are in- 
duced to reflect upon our ignorance, as well as up 
on our knowledge. 4. The natura' history of wan, 
is of more importance than that of all animals, 
vegetables, and minerals; and, in mastering the 
former, we receive a key to unlock the mysteries 
of the latter. 5. Some professors of religion boast 
of their ignorance of science; and some would- 
be philosophers, treat with contempt, all truths, that 
are not mathematical, and derived from facts : 
which show the greatest folly? 

Effects of Success. If you would re- 
venge yourself on those who have slighted 
you, be successful; it is a bitter satire on 
their want of Judgment, to show that you 
can do ivithout them, — a galling wound — to 
the self-love — of proud, inflated people ; but 
you must reckon on their hatred, as they 
will never for give you. 

VARIETIES. 

They— never fail, who die 
In a good cause ; the block may soak their gori ; 
Their heads — may sodden in the sun, their limtc, 
Be strung to city-gales, and castle- walls ; 
But still, their spirits— walk aboad. Though yean 
Elapse, and others— share as dark a doom, 
They but augment the deep swelling thought, 
Which overpowers all others, and conduct 
The world at last — to freedom. 

The ocean,— when it rolls aloud, 
The tempest— bursting from the cloud, 

In one uninterrupted peal ! 
When darkness— sits around the sky, 
And shadowy forms — go trooping by, 

And everlasting mountains reel, 
All, all of this— is FREEDOM'S song- 

'Tis pealed, — 'tis pealed — eternally 
joy kneels, at morning's rosy prime, 

In worship to the rising sun; 
But Sorrow loves the calmer time, 

When the day-god his course has run 
"When Night is in her shadowy car, 

Pale Sorrow wakes while Joy doth sleepy 
And. guided by the evening star, 

She wanders forth to muse and weep. 
Joy loves to cull the summer flower, 

And wreath it round his happy brow: 
But when the dark autumnal hour 

Hath laid the leaf and blossom low; 
When the frail bud hath lost its worth, 

And Joy hath dash'd it from his crest, 
Then Sorrow takes it from the earth, 
To wither on her wither'd breast. 
Oh, Liberty, thou goddess, heavenly bright, 
Profuse of bliss, and pregnant with delight I 
Eternal pleasures in thy presence reign, 
And smiling plenty loads thy wanton train 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



20S 



506. Commendation — is the expression of the 
approbation we have for any object, in which 
we find any congruily to our ideas of excellence, 
natural, or moral, so as to communicate pleasure : 
as it generally supposes superiority in the person 
commending, it assumes the aspect of love (out 
without desire and respect,) and expresses itself 
in a mild tone of voice, with a small degree of 
confidence i the arms are gently spread, the hands 
open, with the palms upwards, directed toward the 
person approved, and sometimes lifted up and 
down, as if pronouncing praise. 

You have done our pleasures very much grace, fair 
Set a fair fashion on our e?itertainmenl, [ladies; 
Which was not half so beautiful and kind; 
You've added ivorth unto't, and lively lustre, 
And entertain d me with mine own device;- 
I am to thank you for it. 
O good old man, how well m-tltee — appears 
The constant service of the antique world, 
When service sweat for duty, not for meed! 
Thou art not for the fashion of these times, 
Where none will sweat — but for promotion ; 
And having that, do choke their service up, 
Even with the having: it is not so with thee. 

507. Observation-. Nothing appears 
easier than to observe, yet few things are more 
uncommon. By observe — is meant to consi- 
der a subject in all its various parts ; first, each 
part separately; then to examine its analogy 
with contiguous, or other possible subjects ; 
to conceive and retain the various proportions 
which delineate, define and constitute the es- 
sence of the thing under consideration; to 
have clear ideas of these proportions, indivi- 
dually and collectively, as contributing to form 
a whole, so as not to confound them with 
other properties or things, how.ever great the 
resemblance. The observer will often see 
where the unobservant is blind. To observe, 
is to be attentive, so as to fix the mind on a 
particular object, which it selects for consid- 
eration from a number of surrounding objects. 
To be attentive — is to consider some one par- 
ticular object, exclusively of all others, and to 
analyze and distinguish its peculiarities. 

Anecdote. During the mock trial of Louis 
XVI., he was asked, what he had done with 
a certain sum of money, a few thousand 
pounds. His voice failed him, and the tears 
came into his eyes at the question; at length 
he replied — " I loved to make the people 
happy." He had given the money away in 
charity. 

Swt*t — was the sound, when oft, at evening'** close, 
Up } .nder hVl — the village murmur rose; 
Thert, as I passed, with careless steps — and slow, 
The mingling notes, came softened — from below: 
The sivain — responsive, as the milkmaid sang, 
The sober herd, that lowed to meet their young; 
The noisy geese, that gabbled o'er the pool, 
The playful children, justletloose from school, [wind, 
The watch-dog's voice, that bay'd the whispering 
And the loud laugh, that spoke the vacant mind; 
Thest all — in soft confusion — sought the shade, 
\nd filled each pause, the nightingale had made. 



Laconics, L To devolve on science the du- 
ties of religion, or on religion the duties of science, 
is to bind together the lh' : ng and the dead. It. The 
prevailing error oi our times is, the cultivation of 
the intellectual faculties, to the neglect ot the mor- 
al faculties; when the former alone are develop'd, 
the child has acquired the means of doing go.d or 
evil — to himself to society, to his country, or tc the 
world; but practical goodness alone, can preserve 
the equilibrium. 3. Many persons have an unfor- 
tunate passion fo - inventing fictions, merely for the* 
purpose of exciting amazement in their hearers. 
4. Those who, without having sufficient know- 
ledge of us, form an unfavorable opinion respect 
ing us, do not injure us; they reflect on a phan 
torn of their own imagination. 
The heart, like a tendril, accustomed to cling, 

Let it go where it will, cannot flourish alone; 
But will lean to the nearest, and loveliest thing, 

It can twine with itself and make closely its own 
Honoris a sacred tie, the law of kings, 
The noble mind's distinguishing perfection, 
That aids and strengthens virtue, where it meets hei 
And imitates her actions, where she is not. 
False honor, like a comet — blazes broad, 
But blazes for extinction. Real merit — 
Shines — like the eternal sun — to shi ne forever. 
She hath no head, and cannot think; site hath 
No heart, and cannot feel; where'er she moves, 
It is in wrath; or pauses, 'tis in ruin: 
Her prayers — are curses; her communion — death. 
Eternity her vengeance; in the blood of her victirru 
Her red decalogue — is written (Bigotki.) 

Of doing Injuries to Others. Propitiowu 
conscience, thou equitable and ready judge ; h* 
never absent from me ! Tell me, constantly, 
that I cannot do the least injury to znnif'jor y 
without receiving the counter-aixoke: that I 
must necessarily wound myself, when I 
wound another. 

NATURE ALWAYS TRUE. 

Nature — never did betray 
The heart, that loved her ! 'Tis her privilege, 
Through all the years of this our life, to lead 
From joy lojoy; for she can so inform 
The mind, that is within us, so impress, 
With quietness and beauty, and so feed 
With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, 
Rasli judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, 
Nor greetings, where no kindness is, nor all 
The dreary intercourse of common life 
Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb 
Our cheerful faith, that all that we behold 
Is full of blessings. Therefore, let the moon 
Shine on thee in thy solitary walk; 
And let the misty mountain winds be free 
To blow against thee ; and, in after years, 
When these wild ecstasies shall be matured 
Into a sober pleasure; when thy mind 
Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, 
Thy memory be a dwelling-n]ace 
For all sweet sounds and harmonies, oh ! then, 
If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief 
Should be thy portion, with what healing thought* 
Of tender joy wilt 1hou remember me, 
And these my benedictions. 



806 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



508. Tin? Passion's. Plata calls the passions. 
Hie ictifp: or" the soul. According to this meta- 
phor, a bird may be cons dered as the type of it ; 
and. in applying this figure to the several charac- 
ters of men. some are eagles, others are bats and 
owls; a/etc are swans, and many me geese; nophae- 
ni.r among them all. In another place, he styles 
the passions the chariot- horses of the soul; by 
Which is implied, that though strong and Jleet, they 
should be under command. 

COMPLAINING OF EXTREME PAIN. 

Search, there; nay, probe me ; search my wounded 
Pull, — draw it out, — [reins, 

Oh! 1 am shot! A forked burning arrow — 
Su<:'"i across my shoulders: the sad venom flies 
LiV ■ : ghtning thro' my flesh, my blood, my marrow. 
Ha ! what a change of torments I endure! 
A bolt of ice — runs hissing — thro' my body : 
Tis sure — the arm of death; give me a chair; 
Cover me, for I freeze, my teeth chatter, 
And my knees knock together. 

Why turnest thou from me ? I'm alone 

Already, and to the seas complaining. 

What can thy imag'ry of sorroiv mean? 

Secluded from the world, and all its care, 

Hast thou to grieve, or joy ; to hope, ax fear? 

Why should we anticipate our sorrows ? 

'Tis like those, who die — for fear of death. 

509.' Cltuosity — opens the eyes and mouth, 
lengthens the neck, bends the body forward and 
fixes it in one posture, with the hands nearly as 
in admiration with astonishment: when it speaks, 
the voice, tone and gesture are nearly as in inqui- 
ry, which see ; also Desire, Attention, Hope and 
I'erplexity. 

curiosity at first seeing a fine object. 

Pros. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance, 
And say what thou seest yonder. 

Mir. What! is't a spirit? 
Lo, how it looks about! believe, sir, 
Jt carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit. 

Pros. No, wench, it eats and sleeps, and hath 
As we have, such. [such senses 

Mir. I migh*. call him 
A thing iLvine, for nothing natural, 
I ever saw sc noble. 

510. Denying — what is affirmed, is but an af- 
firmation of the contrary, and is expressed like 
affirmation, pushing the open right hand from one, 
and turnntg the face another way. Denying a 
favor — see refusing, denying an accusation. 

" If I in act consent, or sin of thought, 
I3e guilty — of stealing that sweet breath. 
Which was embounded in that beauteous clay, 
Let hell — want pains enough to torture me! 
I left him well. 

Anecdote. The Os-ti-ack Boy. A Russian 
was traveling from Tobalsk to Reresow; and, 
on the road, stopped a night at the hut of an 
Ostiack. In the morning, on continuing his 
journey, he found he had lost his purse. The 
son of theOstiack,about/owr/een, had found 
the purse ; but, instead of taking it up, he 
went and told his father ; who was equally 
unwilling to touch it, and ordered the boy to 
tover ' • with some bushes. On the Russian's 
*eturtu, he stopped at the same hut; the Os- 
iack did not recognize him. He related the 



story of his loss , and when he had finished 
" You arc welcome," said he, " my son her* 
will show you where it is ; no hand ban 
touched it, but the one that covered it, that 
you might receive what you had lost." 

Laconics. I. Owe nothing — to your ad- 
vancement, save your own unassisted exertions, 
if you would retain what you acquire. 2. When 
passion rules us, it deprives of reason, suspend! 
the faculty of reflection, blinds the judgment, and 
precipitates us into acts of violence, or excesses; 
the consequences of which we may forever deplore. 
3. With those who are of a gloomy turn of mind, 
be reserved; with the old, he serious; and witb 
the young, be merry. 4. In forming matrimonial 
alliances, undue effort is made to reconcile every 
thing relating to fortune, and family ; but ver> 
little is paid to congeniality of dispositions, or ac- 
cordance of hearts.^ 5. Moral knowledge is to b» 
sought from the Word of God ; scientific knowl 
edge from the works of God. 6. By union — x\v 
most trifling beginnings thrive and increase; bj 
disunion — the most flourishing — fall to the ground 
7. Is not the union, of capital, talent and la 
bor, the salvation of the world, temporally and 
spiritually ? 

Varieties. 1. Good neighborhoods sup- 
ply all wants; which may be thus illustra- 
ted. Two neighbors, one — blind and the oth- 
er — lame, were called to a distant place; but 
how could they obey ? The blind man car- 
ried the lame one, who directed the carrier 
where to go. Is not this a good illustration, 
of faith and charity? Charity — acts, and 
faith — guides ; i. e. the will — impels, and 
he understanding — directs. 2. Superficial 
writers, like the mole, often fancy themselves 
deep, when they are exceeding near the 
surface. 

THfles make the sum of human things, 
And half our misery from our foibles springs; 
Since life's best joys — consist in peace and ease, 
And fete can save or serve, but all can please; 
Oh ! let the ungentle spirit learn from hence, 
A small unkindness — is a great offence. 
How beautiful is night! 
A dewy freshness fills the silent air, 
No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor-speck, nor stah\ 
Breaks the serene of heaven : 
In full-orbed glory yonder moon divine 
Rolls through the dark blue depths. 
Beneath her steady ray, 
The desert circle spreads, 
Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky ; 
How beautiful is night! 
Who, at this untimely hour, 
Wanders o'er the desert sands? 
No station is in view, 
Nor palm-grove islanded amid the waste. 
The mother and her child ; 
The widowed mother and the fatherless boy 
They, at this untimely nour, 
Wander o'er the desert sands. 
Belay — leads to impotent and snail pae'd beggary 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



20* 




SI 1. Dismissing — with approbation, is done 
With a kind aspect and tone of voice ; the right 
hand open and palm upward, gently raised to- 
wards tlic person: with displeasure — besides the 
look ami tone of voice that suit displeasure, the 
hand is hastily thrown out towards the person dis- 
missed, the back part of the hand towards him. 
and the countenance, at the same time, turned 
away from him. 

Chatillon says to king John: 
Then take my king's defiance from my mouth, 
The farthest limit of my embassy. 

K. J. Bear mine to him. and so depart in peace : 
Be thou as lightning — in the eyes of France ; 
For. ere thou calist report. I will be there, 
The thunder of my cannon shall be heard; 
So, hence! Be thou as the trumpet of our wrath, 
And sullen presage of your own decay. 
An honorable conduct let him have; 
Pembroke, look to't : farewell, Chn-t\\-lon! 

513. Differ- 
ing— in sentiment, 
mav be expressed 
nearly as Refusing, 
which see; and A- 
greeing in opinion, 
or being convinc- 
ed , i s expressed 
nea-ly as granting, 
which also see. — 
Distract ion — o - 
pens the eyes to a 
frightful wideness, 
rolls them hastily 
and wildly from ob- 
ject to object, dis- 
torts every feature ; 
gnashes with the teeth ; agitates all parts of the 
body; rolls in the dust; foams at the mouth; utters 
hideous bellowings — execrations — blasphemies, 
and all that is fierce and outrageous ; rushes furi- 
ously on all who approach, and, if restrained, 
tears its own flesh and destroys itself. See the 
engraving, indicating dread, abhorrence, &c. 
Dotage, or infirm old" age, shows itself by talka- 
tiveness ; boasting of the past; hollowness of the 
cheeks; dimness of sight; deafness; tremor of 
voice ; the accents, through default of the teeth, 
scarcely intelligible ; knees tottering ; hard wheez- 
ing; laborious groaning; the body stooping under 
the insupportable weight of years; which will 
soon crush it into the dust, whence it had its or- 
igin. 

What folly can be ranker? like our shadows, 
Our wishes lengthen, as our sun declines. 
No wish should loiter, then, this side the grave. 
Our hearts should leave the world, before the knell 
Calls for our carcasses to mend the soil. 
Enough to live in tempest; die in port. 
Age should fly concourse, cover in retreat, 
defects of judgment, and the will subdue ; 
Walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore 
Of that vast ocean it must sail so soon! 

Where— should'st thou look for kindness? 
When we are sick, where can we turn for succor; 
When we are wretched, tohere can we complain; 
And when the world — looks cold and surly on us, 
Where can we go — to meet a warmer eye, 
WLth such sure confidence — as to a mother? 
The world may scowl, acquaintance may forsake, 
Friends may neglect, and lovers know a change ; 
But. when a mother— doth forsake her child,, 
Men lift their hands, and cry, "A prodigy!" 
Gluttons are never generous. 



Varieties. 1. The most disgusting vwe$— ar, 
often concealed under the fairest exterior. 2. A 
knowledge of the human heart, is, by no mean? 
detrimental to the love of all mankind. 3. Of* 
person cannot render another — indispensable ; no" 
can one supply the place of another. 4. The lea?» 
failing of an individual often incites a great out 
cry; his character is at once darkened, iramplea 
on, destroyed; but treat that person in the right 
way. and you will be astonished at what he was 
able and willing to perform. 5. He who cannot 
listen, can perform nothing, that deserves the m«m 
of wisdom and justice. 6. He had respectable 
talent* and connections ; but was formidable to the 
people, from his want of principle, and his readi- 
ness to truckle to men in power. 7. Every viciou* 
act, weakens a right judgment, and defiles the life. 
These, and a thousand mixed emotions more, 
From ever changing views of good and ill, 
Formed infinitely various, vef the mind 
With endless storms. 
i For my past crimes — my forfeit life receive * 
No pity for my sufferings — here I crave, 
And only hope forgiveness — in the grave. 
For soon, the winter of the year, 
And age, life's winter, will appear; 
At this, thy living bloom — must fade, 
As that — will strip the verdant shade. 
True love's the gift, that God has given, 
To man alone, beneath the heaven ; 
It is the secret sympathy, 
The silver link, the silken tie, 

Which, HEART tO HEART, and. MIND to M1XD, 

In body, and in soux can Mud. 
Anecdote. SYan-is-laus, king of Poland^ 
was driven from his dominion by Charles XII. 
of Sweden ; he took refuge in Paris, where ho 
was supported at the expense of the court of 
France. Some person complained to the duko 
of Orleans, (then regent,) of the great expense 
of the exiled monarch, and wished that he 
should be desired to leave. The duke nobly- 
replied: "Sir, France has ever been, and I 
trust ever will be, the refuge of unfortunate 
princes; and I shall not permit it to be vio- 
lated, when so excellent a prince as the king 
of Poland comes to claim it." 

The winds 
And rolling waves, the sun's unwearied course, 
The elements — and seasons, all declare — 
For what — the eternal Maker — has ordained 
The powers of man; -we feel, within ourselves^ 
His energy divine. He tells the heart, 
He meant, he made us — to behold, and love, 
What HE beholds and loves, the general orb 
Of life — and being; to be great — like him, 
Beneficent, and active. Thus, the men, 
Whom nature's works can charm, with God kimsttf 
Hold converse ; grow familiar, day by day,. 
With his conceptions; act upon his plan, 
And form to his — the relish of their souls. 
An honest soul — is like a ship at sea, 
That sleeps at anchor — upon the ocean's calm; 
But, when it rages, and the wind blows high. 
She cuts her way with skill— and majesty. 



108 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



513. Exhorting, or encouraging, is earnest 
peisuasion. attended with confidence of success; 
the voice lias the softness of love, intermixed with 
the firmness of courage ; the arms are sometimes 
spread, with the hands open, as entreating; occa- 
sionally the right hand is lifted up, and struck 
rapidly down, as enforcing w|iat is said. In a 
general, at the bead his army, it requires a kind, 
complacent look, unless matters of offence have 
passed, as neglect of duty, &c. 

But wherefore do you droop ? Why look you sad 1 
Be great in act, as you have been in thought : 
Let no', the world — see/ear and sad distrust, 
Govern the motive of a kingly eye ; 
Be stirring with the lime; be fire— with fire ; 
Threaten the Uireatener, outface the brow 
Of bragging horror ; so. shall inferior eyes, 
That borrow their behavior from the great, 
Grow great by your example ; and put on 
The dauntless spirit of resolution ; 
Show boldness, and aspiring confidence. 
What ! shall they seek the Hon in his den, 
And fright himthere,and make him tremble there ? 
Oh, let it not be said ! Forage, and run, 
To meet displeasure farther from the doors, 
And grapple with him, ere he come so nigh. 

514. Fainting — produces a sudden relaxation 
of all that hoids the human frame together— every 
sinew and ligament unstrung ; the color flics from 
the vermillion cheek, the sparkling eye grows 
dim ; down lhe body drops, as helpless and sense- 
less as a mass of clay, to which it seems hasten- 
ing to resolve itself. 

And lo ! sad partner of the genial care, 

Weary and faint— I drive my goat3 afar. 
Weariness — 

Can snore upon lhe flint, when rusty sloth, 

Finds the downy pillow — hard. 

Anecdote. A poor priest came one day, 
Lo Louis XL of France, when this monarch 
was at his devotions, in the church, and told 
him, the bailiffs were about to arrest him for 
a sum, he was unable to pay. The king or- 
dered him the money; saying — "You have 
chosen your time to address me very lucidly. 
It is but just that I should show some com- 
passion to the distressed,w)\en I have been en- 
treating God to have compassion on myself." 

ADDRESSED TO AN OFFICER IN THE ARMY. 

Oh, ihat the muse nrght call. wi;hout offence, 
The gallant soldier back to his good sense, 
nis temp'ral field so cautious not to lose ; 
So careless quite of his eternal foes. 
Soldier! so tender of thy prince's fame, 
Why so profuse of a superior name ? 
For the king's sake, the brunt of battles bear, 
Dut— for the King of king's sake— do not sivear. 
How many bright [high! 

And splendent lamps shine in heaven's temple 
Day hath his golden sun. her moon the night, 

Her fix'd and wandYiug stars the azure sky; 
Bo fram'd all by their Creator's might, [die. 

That still they live and shine, and ne'er shall 
There is a lust in man — no power can tame, 
Of loudly publishing — his neighbor's shame ; 
On eagle's wings— irnmorial scandals fly, 
Whilst virtuous actons are but born— to di$. 



Extremes. The sublime of nature is the 
sky. Mm, moon, stars, &c. The profound Oi 
nature, is, gold, pearls, precious stonts, antf 
the treasures of the deep, which are ine&tima» 
ble as unknown. But all that lies between 
these, as corn, ilowers, fruits, animals, and 
things for the mere use of man, are of mean 
price, and so common, as not to be greatly 
esteemed by the curious; it being certain, 
that any thing of which we know the true use 
cannot be invaluable : which affords a solu- 
tion, why common sense hath either been to- 
tally despised, or held in small repute, by the 
greatest modern critics and authors. 

Varieties. 1. The arts are divided into the 
useful, and the polite, the fine, and the elegant ; 
some are for use, and others for pleasure ; Elocu- 
tion is of a mixed nature, in which use and beauty 
are of nearly co-equal influence ; manner being 
as important as matter, or more so. 2. Our gov- 
ernment, is a government of laws, not of men; 
but it will lose this character, if the laws furnish 
no remedy for the violation of vested rights. 3. 
Nature has given us two eyes and two ea*s, and 
but one tongue ; that we should see and hear more 
than we speak. 4. The weariness of study is re 
moved by loving it, and valuing the results foi 
their uses. 5. The three kingdoms of nature., 
are the Mineral, the Vegetable, and the Animal. 
minerals are destitute of organization and life, 
vegetables, or plants, are endowed with organiza- 
tion and life, but are destitute of voluntary motion 
and sense ,i while animals — possess them all. 
As some lone miser, visiting his store, [it o'er, 
Bsnds o'er his treasures, and counts and recounts 
Hoards after hoards — his rising raptures fill. 
Yet still— he sighs ; for hoards are wanting still: 
Thus, to my breast, alternate passions rise, 
Pleased with eadi bliss, th't Heaven to us supplies; 
Yet oft a sigh prevails, and tears will fall, 
To see the hoard oi human bliss — so small. 
The flighty purpose — is never undertook, 
Unless the deed go with it ; from this moment, 
The firstlings of my heart, shall be 
The firstlings of my head ; and even now. [done. 
To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and 
It is jealousy's peculiar nature, 
To swell small things to great ; nay. out of nought 
To conjure much ; and then to lose i;s reason. 
Amid the hideous phantoms — it has found 
If any here chance to behold himself, 
Let him not dare to challenge me of wrong; 
For. if he shame to have his follies known, 
First he should shame to act 'em : my strict hand 
Was made to seize on vice, and with a gripe, 
Squeeze out the humor of such spongy souls, 
As lick up every idle vanity. 
The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, 
When neither is attended; and, I think, 
The nightingale, if she should sing by day, 
When every goose is cackling, would be thought 
No better a musician than the wren. 
How many things by season, season'd are 
To their right praise and true perfection ! 
How vain all outward effort to supply 
The soul with joy ! the noontide sun is dark, 
And music— discord, when the heart is low. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTIOIN. 



20$ 



515. Fatigue— from severe or hard lahor, 
gives a general languor to the body; the counte- 
nance is dejected, the arms hang listless; the 
body, (if not sitting, or lying along,) sloops as in 
old ;ige; the legs, if walking, drag heavily along, 
and seem, at every step, to bend under the weight 
of the body; the voice is weak, and hardly arti- 
culate enough to he understood. 

J «ee a man's life is a tedious one : 
INrc tir'd myself, and for two nights, together— 
Have made the ground my bed. I should be si;k, 
BiT. that my resolution helps me. Mi'ford — 
When from the mountain-lop Pisanio show'd tl ee, 
Thou wast within my ken. Ah me! I think 
Foundations — fly the vjretched; such, I mean, 
Where they should be relieved. 

516. GKAvrrv. — seriousness, as when thenu'nd 
ls« fixed, or deliberating on some important subject, 
smooths the countenance, and gives it an air of 
melancholy; the eye-brows are lowered, the eyes 
cast downwards, and parti ally closed, or raised to 
heaven : the mouth shut, the lips composed, and 
sometimes a lrttle contracted : the postures of the 
bodv and limbs composed, and without much mo- 
.ion ; the speech, if any, slow and solemn, and the 
voice without much variety. 

Fathers! we once again are met in council : 
Cesar's approach hath summoned us together, 
And Rome — attends her fate — from our resolves. 
How shall we treat this bold, aspiring man? 
Success — still follows him, and backs his crimes: 
Pharsalia — gave him Rome. Egypt — has since 
Received his yoke, and the whole Nile is Cesar's. 
Why should I mention Juba's overthrow, 
Or Scipio's death? Numidia's burning sands 
Still smoke with blood;— 'tis time we should decree 
What course to take ; our foe advances on us, 
And envies us even Lybia's sultry deserts. [fix'd 
Fathers, pronounce your thoughts; are they still 
To hold it out, and fight it to the last? 
Or, are your hearts subdued at length, and wrought, 
By time and ill success, to a submission ? Seinpro- 
nious — speak. 

Anecdote. How to prize good Fortune. 
In the year preceding the French revolution, 
a servant girl, in Paris, drew a prize offfteen 
hundred pounds. She immediately called on 
the parish priest, and generously put two 
hundred louisd'ors into his hands, for the 
relief of the most indigent and industrious 
poor it the district ; accompanying the dona- 
tion with this admirable and just observation, 
* Fortune could only have been kind to me, 
in order that I might be kind to others." 

True Eloquence, is good sense, deliver- 
ed in a natural and unaffected way, without 
the artificial ornament of tropes and figures. 
Our common eloquence is usually a cheat 
upon the understanding ; it deceives us with 
appearances, instead cf things, and makes 
us think we see reason, whilst it is only tick- 
ling our sense. 
i-)«3ential honor must be in a friend, 

Not such as every breath fans to and fro ; 
But born within, is its own judge and end, [know. 

And dares not sin, though sure that none should 
Where friendship's spoke, honesty's understood; 
For none can be a friend that is not good. 
BRONrfON. 24 



Laconics. 1. Wfl too often form hasty opin- 
ions, from external appearances, assumed merely 
for deception, bv the wolf in sheep's clothing. 2. 
While prosperity gilds your days, you may reckon 
many friends ; but, if the clouds of adversity de- 
scend upon you, behold, they fee away. 3. Cow- 
ards boast of their fancied prowess, and assume 
an appearance of courage, which they do not pos- 
sess. 4. The life of the true christian, is not one 
of melancholy, and gloominess ; for he only reigns 
the pleasure of sm, to enjoy the pleasure of holi- 
ness. 5. The blessi?igs of peace cannot be too 
highly prized, nor the horrors of war too earnestly 
deprecated; unless the firmer is obtained, and the 
latter — averted, by a sacrifice of principle. 6. The 
conqueror is regarded with awe, and the learned 
man commands our esteem; but the good man aOtu 



Thy words— had such a melting floto, 
And spoke of truth, so tweetly well, 
They dr^pp'd — like heaven's serenest snow, 
And all was brightness—where they fell. 
Can gold — gain friendship ? Impudence of hope ! 
As well mere man — an angel might beget; 
Love, and love only, is the loan for love. 
Lorenzo ! pride repress ; nor hope to find 
A friend, but who has found a friend in thee. 
All — like the purchase ; few — the price will pay ; 
And this — makes friends — such miracles below. 

Honor and "Virtue. Honor is unstable, 
and seldom the same; for she feeds upon 
opinion, and is as fickle as her food. She 
builds a lofty structure on the sandy founda- 
tion of the esteem of those who are of all be- 
ings the most subject to change. But virtue 
is uniform and fixed, because she looks for 
approbation only from Him, who is the same 
yesterday — to-day — and forever. Honor is 
the most capricious in her rewards. She feeds 
us with air, and often pulls down our house, 
to build our monument. She is contracted 
in her views, inasmuch as her hopes are root- 
ed in earth, bounded by time, and terminated 
by death. But virtue is enlarged and infinite 
in her hopes, inasmuch as they extend be- 
yond present things, even to eternal ; this is 
their proper sphere, and they will cea-ie only 
in the reality of deathless enjoyment. In the 
storms, and in the tempests of life, honor is 
not to be depended on, because she herself 
partakes of the tumult ; she also is buffeted 
by the wave, and borne along by the whirl' 
wind. But virtue is above the storm, and has 
an anchor sure and steadfast, because it is cast 
into heaven. The noble Brutus worshiped 
honor, and in his zeal mistook her for virtue. 
In the day of trial he found her a shadow and 
a name. But no man can purchase his virtue 
too dear; for it is the only thing whose value 
must ever increase with the price it has cost 
us. Our integrity is never worth so much as 
when we have parted with our all to keep iU 
Similitudes — are like songs in love; 
They much describe, tho' nothing j 



210 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION, 



517. Confidence. Courage, Boasting — is 
hope elated, security of success in obtaining its 
object; ami COURAGE is the contempt of any un- 
avoidable danger in die execution of what is re- 
solved upon: in both, the head and whole body 
are erected rather gracefully, the breast projec- 
ted, the countenance clear and open, the accents 
strong, round, full-mouthed, and not loo rapid ; 
the voice firm and even. Boasting, — exagger- 
ates these appearances by loudness, blustering 
and railing, what is appropriately called swag- 
gering; tho eye-brows drawn down, the face 
red and bloated, mouth pouts, arms placed a- 
kimbo, foot stamped on the ground, large strides 
n walking, voice hollow, thundering, swelling 

into bombast; head often menacingly, right fists 
clenched, and sometimes brandished at the per- 
son threatened. 

Base men, that use them, to so base effect : 
But truer stars — did govern Proteus' birth : 
His ivords — are bonds; his oaths — are oracles; 
His love — sincere ; his thoughts — immaculate : 
His tears — pure messengers — sent from his heart, 
His heart — as far from fraud as heaven from earth. 

518. Giving or Granting, — when done with 
an unreserved good will, is accompanied with a 
benevolent aspect, and kind tone of voice : the 
right hand open, with the palm upward, extend- 
ing toward the person favored, as if giving 
what he asks ; the head at the same time inclin- 
ing forward, as indicating a benevolent dispo- 
sition and entire consent : all indicative of how 
heartily the favor is granted, and the benefac- 
tors joy in conferring it. 

giving a daughter in marriage. 
If I have too severely punished jou, 
Your compensation makes amends ; for I 
Have given you here a thread of mine own life, 
Or that for which I live, whom once again 
I tender to thy hand ; all thy vexations 
"Were but my trials of thy love, and thou 
Hast strangely stood the test. Here, afore heav'n, 
T ratify this my rich gift : Ferdinand, 
Yio not smile at me, that I boast her off; 
For thou wilt find she will outstrip all praise, 
And make it halt behind her. 
Then— as my gift — and thine own acquisition — 
Worthily purchas'd — take — my daughter. 

Impatience. In those evils which are al- 
lotted to us by Providence, such as deformity, 
privation of the senses, or old age, it is al- 
ways to be remembered, that impatience can 
have no present effect, but to deprive us of 
the consolations which our condition admits, 
by driving away from us those by whose con- 
versation or advice we might be amused or 
helped ' and that, with regard to futurity, it 
is yet less to be justified, since, without les- 
sening the pain, it cuts off the hope of that 
reward, which. He, by whom it is inflicted, 
will confer upon those who bear it well. 

Anecdote. Clemency. Alphonsus, king 
of Naples and Sicily, so celebrated in history 
for his clemency, was once asked, why he 
was so favorable to all men ; even to those 
most notoriously wicked ? He replied, " Be- 
cause good men are won by justice ; the bad, 
by clemency." Some of his ministers com- 
plained to him, on another occasion, of this 
clemency ; when he ex&aimed " Would you 



have Iwns and tigers to rule over you"* 
Know you not that cruelty — is the attribute 
of wild beasts ; clemency — that of man? 

Varieties. 1. There is no person so lit- 
tle, but the greatest may sometimes need his 
assistance : hence, we should all exercise 
clemency, when there is an opportunity, to- 
wards those in our power. This is illuslrs> 
ted by the fable of the mouse and the lion . 
when the lion became entangled in the toils 
of the hunter, he was released by the mouse, 
which gnawed asunder the cords of the net 
in consideration of having been spared his 
own life, by the royal beast, on a former oc- 
casion. 2. It is a universal principle — thai 
an essence cannot exist out of its form ,• nor 
be perceived out of its form; nor can the 
quality of a form be perceived, till the form 
itself is an object of thought : hence, if an 
essence does not present itself in form, so 
that its form can be seen in thought, it is to- 
tally impossible to know anything about, or 
be affected with, that essence. 3. The truths 
of religion, and the truths of science, are of 
different orders ; though sometimes blended, 
yet never actually confounded .• theology — is 
the sun, and science — the moon — to reflect 
its light and glory. 

My Mother. Alas, how Utile do we ap- 
preciate a mother's tenderness while living ! 
How heedless, are we, in youth, of all her 
anxieties and kindness! But when she ia 
dead and gone; when the cares and coldness 
of the world come withering to our hearts ; 
when we experience how hard it is to find 
true sympathy, how few love us for ourselves, 
how few will befriend us in our misfortunes; 
then it is, that we think of the mother we 
nave lost. 

The love of praise, howe'er conceal'd by art, 
Reigns — more or less, and glows — in every heart : 
The proud — to gain it, toils on toils endure, 
The modest — shun it — but to make it sure. 

Think not the good, 
The gentle deeds of mercy — thou hast done, 
Shall die forgotten all; the poor, the prisoner, 
The fatherless, the friendless, and the widow, 
Who daily — own the bounty of thy hand, 
Shall cry to heaven, and pull a blessing on thee. 
Tir'd Nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep ! 
He, like the world, his ready visits pays 
Where Fortune smiles ; the wretched hcforsai>e$ 
Swift on his downy pinions, flies from grief. 
In Nature there's no blemish, but the mind ; 
None can be call'd deformed, but the unkind: 
Virtue is beauty ; but the beauteous-evil 
Are empty trunks, o'erflourish'd by the devil. 
Can chance of seeing first, thy title prove * 
And know'st thou not, no law is made for loveT 
Law is to things, which to free choice relate ; 
Love is not in our choice, but in our fate : 
Laws are but positive ; love's power, we see, 
Is Nature's sanction, and her first degres. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



211 




520. Geati- 

nrDK — puts Oil an 
aspect full of com- 

rl ace nc y ; (see 
.ove; ) if the ob- 
ject of it be a char- 
acter greatly su- 
perior, it express- 
es much submis- 
sion : the right 
band is open with 
the fingers spread, 
and press'd upon 
the breast just o- 
ver the heart, ex- 
presses, very ap- 
propriately, a sin- 
cere and hearty sensibility of obligation. The 
engraving represents the deep-felt emotions of a 
noble mind. 

O great Sciolto ! O my more than father ! 

Let me not lice, but at thy very name, 

My eager heart springs up. and leaps with^oy. 

When I forget the vast, vast debt I owe thee, 

(Forget — but 'tis impossible,) then let me 

Forget the use and privilege of reason — 

Be banish'd from the commerce of mankind, 

To wander in the desert, among brutes, 

To bear the various fury of the seasons, 

The midnight cold, and the noontide scorching heat, 

To be the scorn — of earth, and curse of henven. 

531. A man is never the less an artist, for 
not having his tools about him ; or a musician, 
because he wants his fiddle : nor is he the less 
brave, because his hands are bound, or the 
worse pilot, for being upon dry ground. If I 
only have will to be grateful, I am so. As 
gratitude is a necessary, and a glorious, so 
also is it an obvious, a cheap, and an easy vir- 
tue : so obvious, that wherever there is life, 
there is place for it : so cheap, that the covetous 
man may be gratified without expense : and 
sc easy, that the sluggard may be so likewise 
without labor. 

To the generous mind, 
The heaviest debt — is that of gratitude, 
When His not in our power to repay it 

Tis the Creators primary great Imo, 
That links the chain of beings to each other, 
Joining the greater to the lesser nature. 

When gratitude — o'erflows the swelling heart, 
And breathes in free and uncorrupted praise 
For benefits received, propitious heaven 
Takes such acknowledgments as fragrant incense, 
And doubles all its blessings. 

Anecdote. The bill of indictment, pre- 
ferred against John Bunyan, author of Pil- 
grim's Progress, &c, was as follows: "John 
Bunyan hath devilishly and perniciously ab- 
stained from coming to church,to hear divine 
service, and is a common upholder of several 
unlawful meetings and conventicles, to the 
disturbance and distraction of the good sub- 
jects of this kingdom, contrary to the laws of 
our sovereign lord the king," &c, was con- 
victed, and imprisoned twelve years and six 
months. 

Aad toe >mi of the right, to puiwe the expedient. 



Views of Truth. We see truths through 
the medium of our own minds, as we see oojuti 
around us thro' the atmosphere; and, of course, 
we see them not as they are in themselves, but as 
they are modified by the quality of the medium 
thro' which we view thein; and, as the minds of 
all are different we must all have different view* 
of any particular truth; which is the reason, that 
differences of opinion exist, and always will exist: 
hence, it is no argument against truth, that men 
have different views of it; and because they must 
have different views, it is no reason why they 
should quarrel about their opinions; for good uses, 
and not matters of opinion, are the louch-sxone of 
fillowship. Thus it is. that the all of religion re- 
lates to life, and the life of religion is to do good, 
from a love of doing good. While we agree, and 
are united in doing good, we should not fighi 
among ourselves, about mere matters of opinion; 
still, we must not be indifferent about them; for 
truth is necessary to give form to goodness; and 
e-» ery good person will naturally desire to know 
the truth, that he may regulate his conduct by it; 
and thus, acquire the greatest and highest degree of 
goodness. 

Varieties. 1. The young — are slaves to 
novelty ; the old — to custom. 2. The volume 
of nature, is the book of knowledge, and h€ 
becomes the wisest, who makes the best se- 
lections, and uses them properly. The great- 
est friend of truth — is time ; her greatest ene- 
my — prejudice ,■ and her constant companion 
is humility. 4. The best means of establish- 
ing a high reputation is — to speak well, and 
act better. 5. Be studious, and you will be 
learned; be industrious andfrugal, and you 
will be rich; be sober and temperate, and you 
will be healthy ; be virtuous, and you will be 
happy. 6. He, who governs his passions, 
does more than he, who commands armies. 
Socrates, being one day offended with his ser- 
vant, said, " I would beat you, if I were not 
angry. 7. The best mode of gaining a high 
reputation, is — to be — what you appear to be. 
Like birds, whose beauties languish, half conceaT d. 
Till, mounted on the wing, their glossy plumes, 
Expanded, shine with azure, green, and gold ; 
How blessings brighten — as they take their flight 

Dtep — as the murmurs of the falling floods ; 

Sweet — as the warbles of the vocal woods: 

The list'ning prssions hear, and sink, and rvu, 

As the rich harmony, or sioells, or dies ! 

The pulse of avarice— forgets to move ; 

A purer rapture — fills the breast of love; 

Devotion — lifts to heav'n a holier eye. 

And bleeding pity— heaves a softer sigh. 
I, solitary, court 
The inspiring breeze, and mediate upon the bock 
Of nature, ever open; aiming thence, 
Warn from the heart, to learn the moral song. 
A. dark, cold calm, which nothing now can break, 
Or toarm, or brighten ;— like that Syrian iJte, 
Upon whose surface morn and rummer shed 
Tt -ir unites in vain ; for \il beneath is dead. 
jjll it titent- -twas my fancy ! 
Stills- ai the breathless interval— between \he flash and thv?4m 



119 

533. To act a Passion properly, we must 
never attempt it, until the imagination has 
conceived clearly and distinctly, a strong and 
vivid idea of it, and we feel its influence in our 
inmost soul ; then, the form, or image of that 
idea, will be impressed on the appropriate 
muscles of the face, and communicate, in- 
stantly, the same impressions to the muscles 
of the body g which, whether braced, or re- 
laxed, (the idea being either active or passive,) 
by impelling, or retarding the flow of the 
affection, will transmit, their own sensation to 
the voice, and rightly dispose the proper g-es- 
turc. 

COURAGE, D19TRACTIOK. 

A generous few, the vet'rsm hardy gleanings 
Of many a hapless fight, with 
Heroic fire, inspirited each other, 
Resolved on death ; disdaining to survive 
Their dearest country. " If we fall,'" I cried, 
"Let us not tamely fall, like passive coxoards ; 
Jfo ; let us live, or let us die like men ; 
Come on. my friends, to Alfred we will cut 
Our glorious way ; or, as we nobly perish, 
Will offer, to the genius of our country, 
Whole hecatombs of Danes." 
As if one soul had moved them all. 
Around their heads, ihey flashed [Danes ! 

Their flaming falchions— " Lead us to those 
Our country! Vengeance !" was the gen'ra! cry ! 
533. Passioxs. 1. The passions and desires, 
like the two twists of a rope, mutually mix 
one with the other, and twine inextricably 
round the heart; producing good, if mode- 
rately indulged ; but certain destruction, if 
suffered to become inordinate. 2. Passion — 
is the great mover and spring of the soul : 
when men's passions are strongest, they may 
have great and noble effects; but they are 
then also, apt to lead to the greatest evils. 

Anecdote. Pungent Preaching. An old 
man being asked his opinion of a certain ser- 
mon, replied, " I liked it very well, except 
that there was no pinch to it. I always like 
to have a pinch to every sermon." 
Want is a bitter and a hateful good, 
because its virtues are not understood. 
Vet many things, impossible to thought, 
Have been, by need, to full perfection brought. 
The daring of the soul proceeds from thence, 
Sharpness of wit and active diligence ; 
Prudence at once, and fortitude it givea, 
And, if in patience taken, mends our lives ; 
For even that indigence which brings me low 
Makes me myself, and him above, to know; 
A good which none would challenge, few would 
A fair possession,wnich mankind refuse, [choose, 
If we from wealth to poverty descend, 
Want gives to know the flatterer from the friend. 
The darts of love, like lightning, wound within, 
And, tho' they pierce it, never hurt the skin ; 
They leave no marks behind them where they flyi 
Tho' thro' the tend'rest part of all, the eye. 
BarknenB— the curtain drops on life's dull scene 



PRINCIPLES OF ELCX UTIOIV. 

Lacouics. 1. Wher we behold a>7f growr 
man. in the perfection of vigor and health, and 



the splendor of reason and intelligence, and ara 
informed that 'God created man in his own 
image, after his own likeness;" we are attracted 
with tenfold interest to the examination of the 
object, that is placed before us, and the structure 
of his mind and body, and the succinct develop- 
ments of the parts and proportions of each. 2. A 
workingman without tools, tho 1 he has the best 
designs and most perfect practical skill, can do 
nothing useful ; without skill, his design could 
do nothing with the best of tools ; and without 
design, his skill and tools would be both inopera- 
tive : thus agam, three distinct essentials ar« 
seen to be necessary in every thing. 
Mercy I 1 know it not,— for I am miserable ; 
I'll give thee misery, for here she dwells, 
This is her home, where the sun never dawns. 
The bird of night— sits screaming o'er the roof; 
Grim spectres— sweep along the horrid gloom ; 
And naught is heard, but wailing and lamenting. 
Hark! something era" U above! it shakes! \ttotter»{ 
And the nodding r» falls to crush us ! 
'Tis/ftWen / 'tis here! I felt it on my brain ! 
A waving flood— of bluish fire swells o'er me! 
And now, 'tis out ; and I am drowned in blood I 
Ha ! what art thou? thou horrid, headless trunk! 
It is my Hastings .-—see ! he wafts mc on ; 
Away ! I go : I fly : I follow thee ! 

Varieties. 1. Can actions be really good, 
unless they proceed from good motives ? 2. 
By doubting, we are led to think ; or, consider 
whether it be so, and to collect reasons, and 
thereby to bring that truth rationally into oui 
minds. 3. The effects of music — are pro- 
duced directly upon the affections, without 
the intervention of thought. 4. What shall 
we do, to obtain justice, when we are injur- 
ed ? Seek recompense at law, if at all. 5, 
Suppose a person insults us in such a man- 
ner, that the law cannot give us redress? 
Then forgive him. 6. In the Lord, are infi- 
nite love, infinite wisdom, and infinite power 
or authority, — which three essential attri- 
butes—constitute the only God of heaven 
and earth. 7. The New Testament was di- 
vided into verses, in 1551, by Robert Steven*, 
for the convenience of reference to a Concor- 
dance ; and the Old Testament is supposed 
to have been divided into verses, about the 
same time ; those divisions, of course, are of 
no authority ; nor are the punctuations. 

All live by seeming. 
The beggar begs with it, the gay courtier 
Gains land and title, rank aid rule, by seeming 
The c!ergy scorn it not, and the bold soldier 
Will eke with it his service. All admit it, 
All practice it ; and he, who is content 
With showing what he is, shall have small credt 
In church, or camp, or state. So wags the world 
What is this world 1 Thy school, O misery ! 
j Our only lesson, is— to learn to suffer ; 
I And he who knows not that, was born for mthing 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



213 



524. Despair. Shakspeare has most exqui- 
sitely depicted this passion, where he has drawn 
Cardinal Beaufort, after a most ungodly life, dying 
in despair, and terrified with the murder of duke 
Humphrey, to which he was accessory. The first 
example is Despair, the second, Despair and Re- 
morse. 

If thou be'st Death, I'll give thee England's treasures, 
Enough to purchase such anoUier island, 
So thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain. 
Bring me to my trial, when you will; 
Died he not in his bed? where should he die? 
Can I make men live, whether they will or no ? 
<Xi! torture me no more; I will confess. 
Alive again? then show me where he is; 
PlI give a thousand pounds to look upon him. 
He hath no eyes, — the dust — hath blinded them ; 
Comb down his hair; look! look! it stands upright, 
Like ftme-twigs — to catch my winged soul; 
Give me some drink, and bid the apothecary 
Bring in the strong poison, that I bought of him. 
Henceforth— let no man— trust the first false step 
To guilt. It hangs upon a precipice, 
Whose deep descent, in fast perdition ends. 
How far — am I plunged down, beyond all thought, 
Which I this evening framed ! 
Consummate horror! guilt — beyond a name! 
Dare not my soul repent. In thee, repentance 
Were second guilt, and 'twere blaspheming heaven 
To hope for mercy. My pain can only cease 
When gods want power to punish. Ha! ihedaum! 
Rise, never more, O ! sun ! let night prevail. 
Eternal darkness — close the world's wide scene : 
And hide me — from myself 




525. Grief is disappointment, devoid of hope ; 
but muscles braced instantly, imply hope strongly, 
and a spirited vivacity in the eye, is the effect of 
pleasure and elevation. They are inconsistent 
with a passion that depresses, which grief mani- 
festly does ; because depression slackens the 
nerves, and unbraced nerves deject the looks and 
air, necessarily ; therefore, a relaxed mien, and 
languid eye, form the truest picture of natural 
sorrow. The smaller engraving represents vacant 
grief, and the other deep silent grief. 
I'll go, and, in the anguish of my heart, 
Weep o'er my child,— if he must die, my life 
Is wrapt in his; and shall not long survive ; 
Tis for his sake, that I have'suffered life, 
Groaned in captivity, and outlived Hector, 
Yes. my As-ty-a-nax ! we will go together; 
Together— to t^i» realms— of night— we'll go. 

Anecdote. Lesson from a Spider. King 
Robert Bruce, the restorer of the Scottish 
monarchy, being out one day reconnoitering 
the army, lay alone in a barn. In the morn- 
ing, still reclining on his pillow of straw, he 



saw a spider climbing up one of the rafters; 
the insect fell, but immediately made a second 
attempt to ascend ; and the hero saw, with 
regret, the spider fal! the sscG?id time ; it then 
made a third unsuccessful attempt. With 
much interest and concern the monarch saw 
the spider baffled in its aim twelve times; 
but the thirteenth essay was successful; 
when the king, starting up, exclaimed, " Thi» 
despicable insect has taught me perseverance 
I will follow its example. Have I not been 
twelve times defeated by the enemy's supe- 
rior force 1 On one fight more hangs the in- 
dependence of my country." In a few days, 
his anticipations were realized, by the glori- 
ous victory at the battle of Bannockburn, and 
the defeat of Edward the Second. 

Varieties. 1. The bee — rests on natural 
flowers, never on painted ones, however in- 
imitably the color may be laid on ; apply this 
to' all tilings. 2. The rapidity with which 
the body may travel by steam, is indicative of 
the progress which the mind is about to make; 
and improvements in machinery — represent 
those which are developing in the art of teach- 
ing. 3. Equal and exact justice to all, of 
whatever state, or persuasion, religious and 
political. 4. What is matter? and what are 
its essential properties, and what its primeval 
form ? 5. How much more do we know of 
the nature of matter, than we do of the essen- 
tial properties of spirit ? 6. What is the ori- 
gin of the earth, and in what form did it 
originally exist, — in a gaseous, or igjieous 
form 1 7. Everything that exists, is designed 
to aid in developing and perfecting both body 
and mind : the universe is our school-house. 

DESPAIR makes a despicable figure, and descends from a iue&3 
original. 'Tis the offspring of fear, of laziness, and impatient*; 
it argues a defect of spirit and resolution, and oftentimes of hon- 
esty too. / would not despair, unless I saw my misfortune record- 
ed in the book of fate, and signed and sealed by necessity. 

I am not mad ; this hair I tear is mine; 

My name is Constance; I was Goffrey's wife; 

Young Arthur — is my son, — and he is lost. 

I am not mad ; I would to heaven I were; 

For then, 'tis like I should forget myself. 

Oh, if I could, what grief— I should forget! 

Preach some philosophy — to make me mad, 

And, cardinal, thou shalt bo canonized ; 

For being not mad, but sensible of grief, 

My reasonable part produces reason, 

That I may be delivered of these woes, 

And teaches me to kill, or hang myself; 

If I were mad, I should forget my son, 

Or madly think a bale of rags were he. 

I am not mad ; too well I feel 

The diffused plague of each calamity. 

Make thy demand on those, who own thy power, 

Know, I am still beyond thee ; and tho' fortunz 

Has stripped me of this train, this pomp of greatness 

This outside of a king, yet still — my soul 

Fixed high, and on herself alone dependent 

Is ever free and royal; and even now, 

As at the head of battle, does defy thee. 



214 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 




536. Jealousy is 
loubtful anger, strug- 
gling against faith and 

pity ; if is a tenderness 
resisted by resentment 
of suspected inju r y; 
the nerves braced strong, 
imply determination of 
revenge and punishment; 
while, at the same time, 
a soft passive hesitation 
in the eye, confesses a 
reluctance at the heart, 
to part with, or efface a 
gentle and indulged idea. 
Again, it is rage at a con- 
cluded infidelity ; and 
r .hen. the eye receives and flashes out sparklings cf 
inflamed ideas, while the muscles, contracting the 
will's violence, from a reuressive disposition of 
the heart, grow slack, and lose their spring, and 
so disarm and modify the enraged indignation. 
Now from this unsettled wavering in the balance 
of the purpose, when the heart and judgment 
weigh each other, and both scales alternately 
preponderate, is induced a glowing picture of 
jealousy. 

Oh ! what dam-ned. minutes tells he o'er, 
Who doats, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves! 
O jealousy ! thou bane of social joy ! 
Oh ! she's a monster, made of contradictions ! 
Let truth, in all her native charms appear, 
And with the voice of harmony itself 
Plead the just cause of innocence traduc'd ; 
Deaf as the adder, blind as upstart greatness, 
She sees, nor hears. And yet, let slander whisper, 
Rumor has fewer tongues than she has ears ; 
And Argxis" 1 hundrd eyes are dim and slow, 
To piercing jealousy's. 

527. The Fruits. Men, instead of applying 
the salutary medicines of philosophy and religion 
to abate the rage, and recover the temper of their 
vitiated imaginations, cherish the disease in their 
bosoms, until their increasing appetites, like the 
hounds of Actaeon, tear into pieces the soul they 
were intended to enliven and protect. 

Jealousy — is like 
Apolish'd glass, held to the lips, when life's indoubt: 
If there be breadth, 'twill catch the damp and show it. 
Jealous rage — is but a hasty fame, 
That blazes out, when love too fiercely burns. 
It is jealousy's peculiar nature, 
To swell small things to great; nay, out of nought, 
To conjure much, and then to lose its reason 
Amid the hideous phantoms it has formed. 
Where love reigns, disturbingjea/ousi/ 
Doth call himself affection's sentinel; 
Gives false alarms, suggesteth mutiny, 
And, in a peaceful hour, doth cry, kill, kill; 
Distempering gentle love with his desire, 
As air and water do abate the fire. 

How blest am I 
In my just censure ! in my true opinion ! — 
Alack for lesser knowledge ! — how accurs'd 
In being so bless'd ! There may be in the cup 
A spic'er steep'd, and one may drink, depart, 
And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge 
Is not infected ; but if one present 
The abhorr'd ingrerlient to his eye, make known 
How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides, 
With violent hefts. — I have drunk, and seen the 
spider ! 



Anecdote. Lord Gadsly, over (ho en 
trance of a beautiful grotto, had caused tht* 
inscription to be placed, — " Let nothing en- 
ter here but what is good.'" Dr. Rcr.nel, the 
master of the temple, who was walking over 
the ground, with much point asked — " Then 
where does your lordship enter '" 

Everything Useful. The mineral, ve- 
getable, and animal kingdoms, are designed 
for the nourishment, clothing, habitation, re- 
creation, delight, protection and preservation 
of the human race ; abuse does not take 
away use, anymore than the falsification of 
truth destroys the truth ; except, with those 
who do it. Everything which is an object of 
the senses, is designed to aid in developing 
the most external faculties of man; and 
what is of an economical and civil nature, 
and what is imbibed from parents, teachers, 
and others, and also from books, and reflec- 
tions upon them all, is useful tor perfecting 
the rational faculties of the mind: and all 
diinne truths are designed to perfect the hu- 
man mind, and prepare it for receiving a 
spiritual principle from the Lord, our Crea- 
tor and Redeemer. 

Varieties. 1. A fit Pair. A Dandy is a 
thing, in pantalocns, with a body and two 
arms, head without brains, tight boots, a cane, 
and white handkerchief, two broaches and a 
ring on his little finger. A Coquette is a 
young lady, with more beauty than sense, 
more accomplishments than learning , more 
charms of person than graces of mind, 
more admirers than friends, and more fools 
than wise men for her attendants. 2. The 
sunshine of prosperity — has attractions for 
all, who love to bask in its influence, hoping 
to share in its pleasures. 3 The verdant 
lawn, the shady grove, the variegated land- 
scape, the beautiful ocean and the starry jftr- 
mament are contemplated with pleasure, by 
every one, who has a soul. 4. A man should 
not be ashamed to own, that he has been in 
the wrong ,- which is only saying, in other 
words, that he is wiser to-day than he was 
yesterday. 5. The love of truth and good- 
ness, is the best passion we can indulge. 6. 
A woman's life, is the history of the affec 
tions ; the heart is her world ; it is there 
her ambition strives for empire, and there 
she seeks for untold treasures. 7. The best 
and noblest conquest, is that of reason i^n* 
out passions, and follies. 

Those you make friends. 
And give your hearts to, when they once pewretfl 
The least rub in your fortunes, fall away 
Like water from ye, neverfound again 
But where they mean to sink ye. 

Oh jealousy! 
Love's ecliptse ! thou art in thy disease 
A wild, mad patient, wondrous hard to plea** 



PRINCIPLES OK ELOCUTION. 



215 



B38. Judsing- demands a grave, steady look. 
wilh deep altentiou. Hie countenance altogether 
clear (rom any appearance, either of disgust, or 
favor: the pronunciation slow, distinct, and em- 
phatical. accompanied with little action, and that 
very grave. 

JUDGING ACCORDING TO STRICT LAW. 

If you refuse— to wed Demetrius— 

Either must you die the death, or abjure, 

Forever, the society of men. 

Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires, 

Know of your youth, examine well your blood, 

Whether, nut yielding to youx father's choice, 

You can onclure the livery of a nun; 

For aye — to he in a shady cloister mew'd ; 

Chaunting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon. 

Take time to pause, and, by the next new moon, 

(The sealing day betwixt wy love and me, 

For everlasting bond of fellowship.) 

Upon that day, either prepare to die, 

For disobedience to your father's will, 

Or »ls«— to wed Demetrius, as he would, 

Or on Diana's altar to protest — 

For age — austerity — and single life. 

Miscellaneous. 1. In opening a cause, 
give a general view of the grounds on which 
the charge is made, and of the extent, magni- 
tude, tendency, and effect of the crime al- 
ledged. 2. There is some consolation for dull 
authors, that the confectioner may put good 
into their hooks, if they fail to do it themselves. 
3. Uncle Toby's oath : " The accusing spirit, 
which (lew up to heaven's chancery, with the 
oath, blushed — as he gave it in ; and the re- 
cording angel — dropped a tear upon it, and 
blotted it out forever. 4. Would not many 
persons be very much surprised, if tlieir ideas 
of heavenly joys, should be exhibited here- 
after, to show them their falsity ? 5. Beauty 
is given, to remind us, that the soul should be 
kept as fair and perfect in its proportions, as 
the temple in which it dwells; the spirit of 
beauty flows in, only where these proportions 
are harmonious. 6. Can any one be a lover 
of truth, and a searcher after it, and yet turn 
his back on it, when presented, and call for 
miracles. 2 7. The aphorism, "Know thy- 
self," 1 is soon spoken, but one is a long time 
in obeying it ; Gracian — was placed among 
the seven wise men of Greece, for having 
been the author of the maxim ; but never, re- 
plied the sage, was any one placed there for 
having performed it. 
Who painted Justice blind, did not declare 
Whit 'magistrates should be, but what they are: 
Not so much, 'cause they rich and poor should weigh 
in their just scales alike ; but, because they, 
Now blind with bribes, are grown so weak of sight, 
They'll sooner feel a cause, than see it right. 

Justice, painted blind, 
Infers, his ministers are obliged to hear 
The cause ; and truth, the judge, determine of it; 
And not sway'd or by favor, or affection, 
By a false gloss, or corrected comment, alter 
The true intent and letter of the law. 
Man's rich with little, were his judgment true. 



Anecdote. In the early per'ud of the 
French revolution, when the throne and the 
altar had been overturned, a Benedictine 
monasterywsiS entered, by a devastating band, 
its inmates treated with wanton and unpro- 
voked cruelty, and the work of demolition 
and plunder going on, — when a large body 
of the inhabitants rallied, drove the spoilers 
away, but secured the ringleaders, whom they 
would have severely punished, had not the 
abbot, who had received the worst indignities 
from these very leaders, rushed forward to 
protect them. " I thank you, my children," 
said he, " for your seasonable interference, 
let us, however, show the superiority of reli~ 
gion, by displaying our clemency, and suffer- 
ing them to depart." The ruffians were over- 
powered by the abbot's humanity, fell at his 
feet, entreated his benediction and. forgiveness. 

But yonder — comes the powerful king of day, 
Rejoicing in the east. The less'ning cloud, 
The kindling azure, and the mountain's brow, 
Illum'd with fluid gold, his near approach 
Betoken glad. Lo, now, apparent all 
Aslant the dew-bright earth, and color'd air, 
H.e looks — in boundless majesty abroad ; 
M\6 sheds the shining day, that, burnisivd, plays 
On recks, and hills, and tow'rs, and wand'ring 
High gleaming from afar. [streams, 

Varieties. 1. Should we be governed by 
our feelings, or by oxa judgment ? 2. Earths, 
waters, and atmospheres — are the three ge- 
neral elements, of which all natural things 
are made. 3. The human body is compo&ed 
of all the essential things which are in the 
world of nature. 4. The three periods of our 
development are — infancy, including the first 
seven years; childhood — the second seven, 
and youth — the third seven; the close of 
which, — is the beginning of manhood. 5. 
Adolescence — is that state, when man begins 
to think, and act — for himself, and not from 
the instruction, and direction of others 6. 
The cerebellum, and consequently, the vo- 
luntary principle of the mind, never sleeps; 
but the cerebrum, and of course, the reason- 
ing faculty — does. 7. Beware of the errone- 
ous opinion, that you must be remarkably 
original ; and that to speak, and write, un- 
like anybody else, is a great merit. 

'Tis certain, greatness, once fallen out with fortune. 
Must fall out with men too : what the declin'd is, 
He shall as soon read — in the eyes of others, 
As feel — in his own fall: for men, like butteiflia, 
Show not their mealy wings, but to the summer 

He stood up 
Firm in his better strength, and like a tree 
Rooted in Lebanon, his fr.ime bent not. 
His thin, white hairs — had yielded to the irind, 
And left his brow uncovered; and his/ace, 
Impressed with the stern majesty of grief, 
Nerved to a solemn duty, now stood forth 
Like a rent rock, submissive, yet sublime. 



216 



V .UNCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 




529. Malice, or Spite, is a habitual malevo- 
lence, long continued, and watching occasion to 
•xeri itself on the hated object ; this hateful dis- 
position sets the jaws and enashes the teeth, 
send3 blasting flashes from the eyes, stretches 
the mouth horizontally, clinches the fists, and 
bends the elbows in a straining manner to the 
body; the tone of voice, and expression, are 
much the same as in anger, but not so loud ; 
which see. These two engravings represent, the 
smaller one, revengeful hatred, and the other, 
abhorrence, fear, contempt, without power, or 
courage. 

How like a fawning publican he looks! 

I hate hin., for he is a christian, 

But more, for that, in low simplicity, 

He .ends out money gratis, and brings down 

The rates of usance, here with us in Venice. 

If I can catch him — once upon the hip, 

I will feed fat — the ancient grudge I bear him. 

He hates our sacred nation, and he rails, 

(Even there wher&merch'nts most do congregate,) 

On my bargains, and my well-won thrift ; 

Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe, 

If I forgive him. 

530. Melaxcholy, or Fixed Grief, is 
gloomy, sedentary, and motionless. The 
lower jaw falls, the lips are pale, the eyes cast 
down, half shut, the eyelids swollen and red, 
or livid tears trickling silently and unmixed, 
with total inattention to anything that passes. 
Words, if any, a.-e few, and those dragged out 
rather than spoken; the accents weak and 
interrupted, sighs breaking into the middle 
of words and sentences. 

There is a stupid weight— upon my senses ; 
A dismal sullen stillness, that succeeds 
The storm of rage and grief, like silent death, 
After the tumult, -.nd the noise of life. [like it ; 
Wouli — it were death; as sure, "'tis wondrous 
Far I am sick of living. My soul is peeVd : 
She kindles not anger, or revenge, 
Love — was the informing, active fire within : 
Now that \3 quenched, the mass forgets to move, 
And longs to mingle— with if" kindred earth. 

The glance 
Of melancholy— is a fearful gift; 
What is it. but the telescope of truth ? 
Which strips the distance of its phantasies, 
And brings lifi; near — in utter nakedness, 
Making the cold reality— too real ! 

Moody and dull melancholy , 

Kinsman to grief and comfortless despair. 
Wi rlh makes the man, and want of it the fellow 



Melancholy — discloses ijs symptoms accord, 
ing to the sentiments and pissions of the minds 
it affects. An ambitious man fancies himself 
a lord, statesman, minister, king, emperor, or 
monarch, and pleases his mind with the vain 
hopes of even future preferment. The mind of 
a covetous man sees nothing tut his re or ape, 
and looks at the most valuable objects with an 
eye of hope, or with the fond conceit, that they 
are already his own. A love-sick brain adores, 
in romantic strains, the lovely idol of his heart, 
or sighs in real misery, at her fancied frowns. 
And a scholar's mind evaporates in the fumes 
of imaginary praise and literary distinction. 

Anecdote. Routs. "How strange it rs,** 
said a lady, " that fashionable parties should 
be called routs? Why, rout, formerly sig 
nified — the defeat of an army ; and when 
soldiers were all put to flight, or to the sword, 
they were said to be routed/" "This title 
has some propriety too ;" said an observer 01 
men and things, "for at these meetings, 
whole families are frequently routed out of 
house and home." 

"Varieties. 1. Agriculture — is the true 
foundation of all trade and industry; and 
of course, the foundation of individual and 
national riches. 2. When the moon, on a 
clear, autumnal evening, is moving through 
the heavens in silent glory, the earth — seems 
like a slumbering babe, smiling in its sleep, 
because it dreams of heaven. 3. The truths 
of science are not only useful, in themselves, 
but their influence is exceedingly beneticial 
in mental culture. 4. Let your amusements 
be select and temperate, and such as will fit 
you for the better performance of your du- 
ties ; all others are positively injurious. 5. 
Raise the edifice of your virtue and happi- 
ness, on the sure foundation of true religion, 
or love to God, and love to man. 6. Thai 
will be well and speedily done in a family or 
community, when each one docs his part 
faithfully. 7. Eloquence — is the power of 
seizing the attention, with irresistable force, 
and never permitting it to elude the grasp, 
till the hearer has received the conviction, 
that the speaker intends. 
That I must die, it is my only comfort; 
Death — is the privilege of human nature, 
And life, without it. were not worth our taking, 
Thither— the poor, the prisoner, and the mourner, 
Fly for relief, and lay their burthen's down. 
Come then, and take me into thy cold arms, 
Thou meagre shade; here, let me breathe my last. 
Charmed, with my father's pity and forgiveness* 
More than if angels tuned their golden viols, 
And sung a requiem — to my parting soul. 

On the sands of life 
Sorrow treads heavily, and leaves a print. 
Time cannot wash away ; while Joy trips by 
With steps so light and soft, that the neU wafi 
Wears his faint foot-falls out. 
And coming events — cast .heir shadows befors. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



217 



831. Pardoning — differs from acquitting, in 
ik>s — the latter — means clearing a person, after 
trial, ot'giuli; whereas, tli e former— sujiposes guilt. 
and signifies merely delivering the guilty person 
from punishment; pardoning requires some de- 
gree of sever. ly of aspect, and lone of voice, be- 
cause the pardoned one is not an object of active, 
unmixed approbation; otherwise, its expression 
u much the same as granting; which see. 

PARDONING A CRUEL PERSECUTION". 

We pardon thee; live on, the state hath need of 

Humility and gratitude for this our gift, [men. 

May make a man of thee. 

Great souls— forgive not injuries, till time 

Has put their enemies within their power, 

That they may show— -forgiveness — is their own. 

That thou may'st see the difference of our spirits, 

I paidon thee thy life, before Ujou ask it: 

For half thy wealth, it is Antotiio''s ; 

The other half— conies to the general state; 

Which humbleness — may drive into a fine. 

532. Perplexity, Irresolution, Anxiety, 
are always attended with some degree of fear; it 
collects the body together, as if for gathering up 
the arms upon the breast, rubs the forehead, the 
eyebrows contracted, the head hanging on the 
breast, the eyes cast downward, the mouth shut, 
the lips compressed; suddenly, the whole body is 
agitated, alters its aspect, as having discovered 
something; then, falls into contemplation as be- 
fore ; the motions of the body are restless and une- 
qual; sometimes moving quick, and sometimes 
alow; the pauses, in speaking to another, long, the 
tone of voice uneven, the sentences broken and 
unfinished; sometimes talks to himself, or makes 
grimaces, and keeping half of what arises in the 
mind. 

Yes;— 'tis Emilia: — by and by — she's dead. 
Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio's death; 
The noise was high; — ha! no more moving? 
Still as the grave Shall she come in? wefigood? 
I think she stirs again. No. What's the best? 
If she come in. she'll speak to my wife. 

Anecdote. Peter the Great made a law, 
in 1722, that if any nobleman beat, or ill- 
treatecl his slaves, he should be looked upon 
as insane, and a guardian be appointed, to 
take care of his person and estate. The great 
monarch once struck his gardener, who, be- 
ing a man of great sensibility, took to his bed, 
and died in a few days. Peter, on hearing of 
this, exclaimed, with tears in his eyes: I have 
civirized my subjects ,- 1 have conquered other 
nations ; yet I have not been able to civilize 
and conquer myself. 
There is no remedy for time misspent, 

No healing — for the waste of idleness, 
Whose very languor — is a punishment 

Heavier than active souls — can feel or guess. 
O hours ofindohnce — and discontent, 

Not now — to be redeemed ! ye sting not less 
Because I know — this span of life was lent 

For lofty duties, not for selfishness; 
Mot to be whiled away in aimless dreams, 

But to improve ourselves — and serve mankind, 

Life — and its choicest_/acMft('es were given. 
Man should be ever tetter— than he seems : 

And shape his acts, and discipline his mind, 

fowa.l adorning earth, with hope of heaven' 
.18 T 



Admiration and Love. There is a wide 
difference between admiration and love. The 
sublime, which is the cause of the former, al- 
ways dwells on great objects, and terrible; 
the latter on small ones, and pleasing ; we 
submit to what we admire, but we love what 
submits to us ; in one case we are forced, in 
the other we are flattered, into compliance. 

Laconics. 1. Every one, who would be an 
orator, should study Longinus on the sublime. 9. 
Many of our books, containing pieces for decla- 
mation, remind one of a physician's leaving medi- 
cine with a patient, without directions hew to Utlu 
it. ' 3. Would it not be well for some competent 
person to compile a work, to be called "Sengs of 
the People,''- for all trades and avocations? 4. Let- 
ters and words are like the notes of a tune, rep- 
resentative of sounds and ideas. 5. Descriptiv* 
speech and writing, are like landscape painting. 
6. The natural world is an allegory, the meaning 
of which we may find in ourselves. 7. Were a 
spectator to come from the other world, into many 
of our congregations, he would regard the sing- 
ing, and perhaps the worship, as any thing but 
devotional. 

Varieties. 1. He, who will peep into a 
drawer, will likely be tempted to take some- 
thing out of it ; and he, who steals a cent in 
his youth, will be very apt to steal a dollar in 
manhood. 2. A great change in life, is like a 
cold bath in winter ,• we all hesitate to make 
the first plunge. 3. The farther you advance 
in any art, or science, the more will you be 
delighted with simplicity of manner, and less 
attracted by superficial ornament. 4. One at 
the grand objects of education is — to collect 
principles and apply them to practice; and 
when this is generally done, mankind will 
be brought nearer to equality. 5. It is as im- 
possible for us to understand a thing, without 
having the image of it on the retina of the 
mind's eye, as it is to see any thing, without 
having its image on the retina of the bodily 
eye. 6. Is not the education of children, for 
time and eternity, the highest social, civil, 
moral and religious duty, we are called up- 
on to perform '! 

PLEASURE OF PIETY. 

A Deity — believed, is joy begun; 

A Deity adored, is joy advanced; 

A Deity beloved, is joy matured. 

Each branch of piety delight inspires: 

Faith — builds a bridge from this world to the nex$ 

O'er death's dark gulf, and all its horror hides; 

Praise, the sweet exhalation of out joy, 

That joy exalts, and makes it sweeter still; 

Praifr ardent opens heaven, lets down a stream 

Of glory, on the consecrated hour 

Of man — in audience with the Deity. 

Some — ne'er advance a judgment of their ow% 

But catch the spreading notions of the toton; 

They reason and conclude — from precedent. 

And own stale notions, which they ne'er invent. 

Some judge of authors' names, not works; and the* 

Nor praise, nor blame 'he writings, but the men. 



S18 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



53:?. Modksty— is a diffidence of ourselves, 
accompanied with delicacy In our sense of what- 
ever is mean, indirect, or dishonorable, or a fear 
of doing these things, or of having them imputed 
to us. Submission is an humble sense of our 
inferiority, and a quiet surrender of our power 
to a superior. Modesty bends the body forward ; 
has a placid, downcast countenance, bends the 
eyes to the breast, if not to the feet, of the su- 
perior chara ter : the voice is low, the tone sub- 
missive, and the words few. Submission adds 
to them a lower bending of the head, and a 
spreading out of the arms and hands, down- 
wards towards the person submitted to. 

Now, good my lord, 

Let there be some more test of my metal, 

Before so noble, arid so great a figure, 

Be stamped upon it. 

O noble sir! 
Your ever kindnesss doth wring tears from me ; 
I do embrace your offer, and dispose, 
From henceforth, of poor Claudia. 
As lamps burn silent vviih unconscious light, 
So modest ease in beauty shines more bright; 
Unaiming charms, with edge resistless fall, 
And she who means no mischief, does it all. 

534. Pride. Wlren our esteem of ourselves, 
or opinion of our own rank or merit is so high, 
as to lessen the regard due to the rank and 
merit of others, it is called pride: when it sup- 
poses others below our regard, it is contempt, 
scorn, or disdain. Priie assumes a lo ty look, 
bordering on the look and aspect of anger. The 
eyes full and open, but with the eye-brow con- 
siderably drawn down, the mouth pouting out. 
but mostly shut, and the lips contracted : the 
words walk out and strut, and are uttered with 
a slow, stiff, bombastic, affectation of importance; 
the hands sometimes rest on the hips, with the 
elbows brought, forward in the position called 
a-kimbo : the feet at a distance from each other, 
and the steps long and stately. Obstinacy — 
adds to the aspect of pride. 

Worcester! get thee gone ; for I do see 
Danger and disobedience in thine eye : 
O sir, your prest.ice is too bold and peremptory, 
And majesty — might never yet endure 
The moody frontier, of a servant's brow ; 
You have good leave to leave us ; when we need 
Your use and counsel, we shall send for you. 
Did'st thou not think, such vengeance must await 
The wretch that with his crimes all fresh about 
Kushes, irreverent, unprepared, uncalled, [him, 
Into his Maker's presence, throwing bark, 
With insolent disdain, his choicest gifts ? 

Anecdote. One of the emperors of China 
met a procession, conducting some malefac- 
tors to punishment. On being informed of 
the facts, he burst into tears ,• when one of 
his courtiers endeavored to comfort him, say- 
ins, " In a commonwealth, there must be 
punishment; it cannot be avoided, as man- 
Kind now are." His majesty replied, " I weep 
not, to see those men prisoners, nor to see 
them chastised; I know the good must be 
protected from the bad ; but I weep, because 
my time is not so happy as that of old was, 
when the virtues of the princes were such, 
that they served as a bridle to the people, and 
their example was sufficient to restrain a 
Whole kingdom." 

To rer.ount JHwiirkty woiies, 

What words, or tongue, of seraph — can suffice ? 



Punishments. There are dre.idfui pun, 
ishments enacted against thieves ; but it wert 
much better to make such good provisions, by 
which every man might be put in a method how 
to live, and so be preserved from the fatal neces- 
sity of stealing, and of being imprisoned, or dying 
for it. 

Varieties. 1. Some politicians consider 
honesty excellent in theory, — and policy safe 
in practice ; thus admitting; the absurd theory, 
that principles entirely false, and corrupt in 
the abstract, are more salutary in their prac- 
tical manifestation, than principles essentially 
good and true. 2. In public and private life, 
in the learned and unlearned professions, ia 
scenes of business, and in the domestic circle, 
the masterpiece of man is decision of character. 
3. The moral sense of the people, is the sheet- 
anchor, which alone can hold the vessel o« 
state, amidst the storms that agitate the world. 
4 True religion has nothing to fear, but much 
to hope, from the progress of scientific truths. 
5. A writer or speaker should aim so to 
please, as to do his hearers and readers the 
greatest amount of good. 6. It is not the 
part of a lover of truth, either to cavil or re- 
ject, without due examination. 7. Ill man- 
ners are evidence of low breeding. 

As turns a flock of geese, and, on the green, 
Poke out their foolish necks in awkward spleen, 
(Ridiculous in rage !) to hiss, not bite, 
So war their quills, when sons of Dullness write. 

Clear as the glass, his spotless fame. 

And lasting diamond writes his name. 
All jealousy 
Must still be strangled in its birth : or time 
Will soon conspire to make it strong enough 
To overcome the truth. 

When satire flies abroad on falsehood's wing, 
Short is her life, and impotent her sting; 
But, when to truth allied, the wound she gives 
Sinks deep, and to remotest ages lives. 

Every man in this age has not a soul 
Of crystal, for all men to read their actions [det, 
Thro' : men's hearts and faces are so far asun- 
That they hold no intelligence. 

Something heavy on my spirit, 
Too dull for wakefulness, too quick for slumber, 
Sits on me as a cloud along the sky, 
Which will not let the sunbeams through, nor yet 
Descend in rain and end, but spreads itself 
Twixt earth and heaven, like envy between 
And man, an everlasting mist. [man 

SONNET. 
Like an enfranchised bird, that wildl; springs, 

With a keen sparkle in his glancing ve, 
And a strong effort in his quivering wings, 

Up to the blue vault of the happy sky,— 
So my enamnr'd heart, so long thine own, 

At length fr>m Love's imprisonment set free 
Goes forth into the open world alone, 

Glad and exulting in its liberty : 
But like that helpless bird (confin'd so long, 

His weary wings have lost all power to soar, / 
Who soon forgets to trill his joyous song, 

And feebly fluttering, sinks to earth once mor*— 
So, from its former bonds released in vain, 
My heart still feels the weight of that rememoer'd ctstaw 
Whole years of joy ghde unperceived away, 
While sorrow counts the minutes as they pata. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



219 



535. Ththtsixg is expressed by benevolent 
«v)ks, a soft hut earnest voice, and sometimes by 
inclining the head, or nod of consent; the hands 
open with palm upward, toward the person to 
whom the promise is made : sincerity in promising 
is express'd by laying the hand gently on the 
heart. 

I'll deliver all, 

And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales, 

And sail, so expeditious, it shall catch 

Your royal fleet far off. 

I will be true to thee, preserve thee ever, 

The sad companion of this faithful breast; 

While life, and Uiought remain. 

Where'er I go. my soul shall stay with thee; 

Tis but my shadow, that I take away. 

536* Refusing, — when accompanied with 
displeasure, is done nearly the same way &9 dis- 
missing with displeasure: toithout it — it is done 
with a visible reluctance, that occasions the bring- 
ing out the words slowly, with such a shake of 
the h*?ad, and shrug, as is natural on hearing 
something that gives us a screw of the shoulders, 
and hesitation in the speech, as implies perplexity 
between granting and refusing; as in the follow- 
ing example of refusing to lend money : 
They answer— in a joint — and corporate voice, 
That now — they are if. fall — want treasure — cannot 
Do— what they would ; are lorry, (you are honorable)— 
But yet they could have wished— (they know not)— 
Something hath been amiss— (a nohle nature 
May catch a urrench) — would all were well — 'tis pity; 
And so intending other serious matter, 
After distasteful looks — and other hard fractions— 
With certain half caps, *nd cw.u-muving vooras — 
They froum me into tOcnce. 

Pride. The disesteem and contempt of 
others is inseparable from pride. It is hardly 
possible to overvalue ourselves,but by under- 
valuing our neighbors,- and we commonly 
mo*f undervalue those, who are, by other men, 
thought to be wiser than we are; and it is a 
kind of jealousy in ourselves that they are so, 
which provokes our pride. 
They said, her cheek of youth was beautiful, 
Till withering sorrow blanch'd the while rose there; 
But grief did lay his \cy finger on it, 
And chill' d it— to a cold and joyless statue. 

Anecdote. Garrick and Hogarth, sitting 
together one day, mutually lamented the 
want of a picture of Fielding; " I think," said 
Garrick, "1 could make hislace;" which he 
did accordingly. " For heaven's sake, hold," 
said Hogarth, " remain as you are a few min- 
utes;" he did so, while the painter sketched 
the outlines, which were afterwards finished 
from their mutual recollection : and this draw- 
ing was the oi'iginal of all the portraits we 
have of the admired Tom Jones. 
He that holds fasi the golden mean, 
And lives, contentedly, between 

The little— and the great,— 
Feels not the xoants— that pinch the poor, 
Nor plagues— that haunt the rich man's door, 

Imbiltering — all his state. 
The tallest pines — feel most — the power 
Of wintry blast; the loftiest tower- 
Comes heaviest — to the ground. 
The bolts— that span the mountain side, 
His cloud-capt eminence — divide; 
And spread the ruin round. 
Nature — is frugal, and her wants arefew. 



Laconics. 1. Wc must be instric ed / y all 
things of one thing, if we would know that one 
thing thoroughly. 2. The evolutioi of the natural 
sciences, amounts to the creation of a new sphere, 
in the human mind. 3. All truths, scientific, philo~ 
sophical and theological, are in perfect havmony 
with each other. 4. The use. or effect, whit h pro- 
duces the end, must be the first point of analytic 
inquiry; i. e. first the fact, or result, and then, the 
reasoning upon it. 5. When it is impossible, to 
trace effects to visible causes, the mental sight miBt 
take up, and complete the operation. 6. There it 
a universal analogy between all tho spheres of 
creation, natural, mental and spiritual, and be- 
tween nature, and all things in human society. ' 
Nature — is simple and easy, it is man that is diffi 
cult and perplexed. 

Genius. They say of poets, that they must 
be born such ; so must mathematicians, so 
must great generals, and so must lawyers, 
and so, indeed, must men of all denomina- 
tions, or it is not possible that they should 
excel,- but with whatever faculties we are 
born, and to whatever studies our genius may 
direct us, studies they still must be. Nature 
gives a bias to respective pursuits ,- and this 
strong propensity is what we mean by genius. 
Milton did not write his Paradise Lost; nor 
Homer his Iliad; nor Newton his Principia, 
without immense labor. 

Light grief is proud of state, and courts compassioa' 
But there's a dignity — in cureless sorrow, 
A sullen grandeur, which disdains complaint; 
Rage is for little wrongs — despair — is dumb. 
Let coward guilt, with pallid fear, 

To shelt'ring caverns fly, 
KnA justly — dread the vengeful fate, 

That thunder.s through the sky. 
Protected by that hand, whose lata, 

The threat'ning storms obey, 
Intrepid virtue — smiles secure, 

As in the blaze of day. 
Varieties. 1. When you can do it, with- 
out injury to truth and mercy, always avoid 
a quarrel and a laiusuit. 2. When the foun- 
dation of our hope is assailed, ought we not 
to contend, earnestly, for the faith once deliv- 
ered to the saints? " 3. When there is a right 
desire, and an untiring industry, there will, 
eventually, be tiie reward of light. 4. They, 
who understand most of a subject, will be ve- 
ry indulgent to those, who know but little of 
it. 5. If we are unwilling to do anything for 
ourselves, how can we expect others will do 
much for us 1 6. Every deceiver, whether by 
word, or deed, is a liar,- and no one, that has 
been once deceived by him, will fail to shun, 
if not despise him. 

Whether present, or absent, you always appear, 

A youth — most bewitchingly pleasant, 
For when you are present, you're absent — my dear} 

And when you are absent — you're present. 
How charming — is divine phihiophy! 
Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, 
But musical as is Apollo's lute, 
And a perpetual feast— of nectsr'd sweets, 
Where no crude surfeit reigns. 
Seeming devotion doth but gild the knave, 
That's neither faithful, honest, just nor brav; 
But where religion doth — with virtue join, 
It makes a hero — like an angel shine. 



220 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 




537. Rkmorse, 
•r a painful sense 
of guilt, casts down 
the countenance, 
and clouds it with 
anxiety; hangs 
down the li e a d ; 
draws down the 
eye-b rows; the 
right hand heats 
the breast ; the 
teeth gnashes with 
anguish, and the 
whole body is 
•trained, and vio- 
lently agiinted : if 
etrong remorse is 
succeeded by the 
more gracious dis- 
position of penitence, or contrition, the eyes are 
raised, (tho' with great appearance of doubting 
and fear.) to the throne of mercy, and immediately 
cast down again to the earth; then floods of tears 
are seen to flow; the knees are bended, or the 
body prostrated on the ground ; the arms are 
spread in a suppliant posture, and the voice of 
deprecation is uttered with sighs and groans, 
tinf'dity. hesitation, and trembling. The engra- 
il N Mcates a noble mind in distress. 

The heart, 
Pierced with a sharp remorse for guilt, 
Disdains the costly poverty ofhecatombs, 
Aud offers the best sacrifice — itself. 
Blest tears — of soul-feh-penitence .' 

In whose benign, redeeming flow — 
Is fell ihefrst, — the only sense — 

Of guiltless joy — that guilt can know. 
Go, maiden, weep — the tears of woe, 

By beauty — to repentance given, 
Though bitterly— on earth they flow, 

Shall turn to fragrant balm — in Heaven! 

538. Security — diminishes the passions; the 
mind, when left to itself, immediately languishes ; 
snd. in order to preserve its ardor, must be every 
moment supported by a new flow of passion. For 
the same reason, despair, though contrary to secu- 
rity, has a like influence. 

539. Raillery, in sport, without real animosi- 
ty, puts on the aspect of cheerfulness, and some- 
times a kind of simple laughter. — and the tone of 
voice is sprightly. With contempt or disgust, it 
casts a look asquint from time to time, at the ob- 
ject, and quits the cheerful aspect, for one mixed 
between an affected grin and sourness : the upper 
Up is drawn up with a smile of disdain: the 
arms sometimes set a-kimbo on the hips, and the 
right hand now and then thrown out towards the 
object, as if they were going to strike one a back- 
handed blow ; voice rather loud, arch and mean- 
ing ; sentences short, expressions satirical, with 
mock-pr&ise occasionally intermixed. 

You have done thai, which youshould be sorry for. 

There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats ; 

For I am arm'd so strong in honesty, 

That they pass by me as the idle wind, 

Which I respect not. I did send to you, 

For certain sums of gold, which you denied me; 

For J can raise no money by vile means. 

No — Cassius, I had rather coin my heart, 

And drop my blood for drachma*, than to wring — 

From t^e hard hands of peasants, their vile trash, 

By any indirection. I did send 

To you for gild — to pay my legions; 

Which you ilmied me; was that done, like Cassius? 



Should 7— have answered Cams Casuw thus 
When Marcus Erutus— grows so covetous, 
To lock such rascal-counters from his friends, 
Be ready— gods, with all your thunderbolts, 
Dash him to pieces ! 

Anecdote. A young gentleman, ^the son 
of his Majesty's printer, who had the patent 
for publishing Gibbon's works,) made his ap- 
pearance, at an assembly, dressed in green 
and gold. Being a new face, and extremely 
elegant, though he was not overstocked with 
sense, he attracted much attention, and a gen- 
eral murmur prevailed, to know who he was. 
A lady replied, loud enough to be heard by the 
stranger, "Oh! don't you know him'.' It is 
young Gibbon, bound in calf, and gilt ,• but 
not lettered." 

Seeing Right. He, only, sees well, who 
sees the whole, in the parts, and the parts, in 
the whole. I know but three classes of men ; 
those who see the whole, those who see but a 
part, and those who see both together. 

Varieties. 1. He, who lives well, and oe- 
lieves aright, will be saved ,• but he, who does 
not live well, and believe aright, cannot be 
saved. 2. Let times be ever so good, if you 
are slothful, you will be in want : but let 
times be ever so bad, if you are diligent in 
the performance of duty, you will prosper. 
3. The reptile, in human form, should be 
avoided with great care. 4. If the sun is to 
be seen by its own light, must not the truth 
be seen in like manner? The soundest ar 
gument will produce no more conviction it, 
an empty head, than the most superficial dec 
tarnation ,• as a feat her and a guinea will fa* 
with equal velocity, in a vacuum. 5. As 
light — has no color, wafer — no taste, and 
air — no odor, so, knowledge should be equal' 
ly pure, and without admixture. C. We 
should have a glorious conflagration, if all, 
who cannot -put fire into their boolcs, would 
consent to put their books into the fire. 7. 
The union of truth and goodness — is like 
that of water and ./ire, which nothing can 
resist. 

As up the tower of knowledge slow we rise, 
How wide and fair the opening prospect lies ! 
But while the view expands, the path grows steeper, 
The steps more slippery, and the chasm 's deeper : 
Then why climb on? Not for the. prospect's beauty, 
Not for the triumph, but because 'tis duty. 
What thing is love, which naught can countervail* 

Naught save itself, ev'.i such a tiling is love. 
And worldly wealth ir. worth as far doth fa:l, 
As lowest earth doth yield to heav'n above. 
Divine is love, and scorneth worldly pelf, 
And can be bought with nothing but with selfl 
We see but half ihe causes of our deedg u 
Seeking them wholly in the outer life, 
And heedless of the encircling spirit- world, 
Which, tho' unseen, is felt, and sows in us 
All gems of pure, and world-wide purpose* 
O fortune! thou canst not divide 
Our bodies so, but that our hearts are XicA, 
And we can love by letters still, and gifts, 
And dreams. 

It is m vain, that we would coldly gaze — 
On such as smile upon us ; the heart — must 
Leap kindly back — to kindntss. 







PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



221 



540. Reproving — puis on a stern aspect; 
Toughens the voice, and is accompanied with ges- 
tures, not differing much from that of threatening, 
but noi so lively; it is like reproach, (which see,) 
but without the sourness and ill-nature. 

Illustration. What right have you, to 
waste your time, which is the state's ; your 
health, which makes time worihfui, and the 
life of goodness in you, which makes living 
all your acts ? Answer me — what right have 
you to wrong yourself, and all the world P 
How comes it, Cassio, you are thus forgot; 
That you unlace your reputation thus, 
And spend your rich opinion — for the name, 
Of a night brawler? Give me answer to it. 

RESIGNATION. 

Yet, yet endure, nor murmur, O my soul ; [less? 
For, are not thy transgressions great and number- 
Do they not cover thee — like rising_//oo<£s ? 
And press thee — like a weight of ivaters down? 
Does not the hand of righteousness — afflict thee? 
And who — shall plead against it? who shall say — 
To Poxver Almighty, thou hast done enough; 
Or bid his dreadful rod of vengeance stay ? 
Wait then, with patience, till the circling hours 
Shall bring the time — of thy appointed res t, 
And lay thee down — in death. 

Duties of Society. Every right pro- 
duces a corresponding duty : hence, may be 
inferred the positive duty of society, to give 
every individual, horn in it? bosom, an ade- 
quate education. For if society has a right to 
the services of every one of its members, — 
this right necessarily involves som-e duties ; 
and what can that duty more directly be, than 
that society should give to all its children, 
such an education, as will fit them for the 
services it intends to exact from them in after 
life 7 And if parents are unable to give their 
children such "an education, it is the duty of 
society to assist them; and if they are un- 
willing, society ought to take the place of 
Sarents, and perform the duty of the parents. 
To one can violate the laws of God, nor the 
government of the world, with impunity ; 
and the more sacred the trust, the more ter- 
rible will be the effects of a disregard of them. 

Each substance of a grief— hath twenty shadows, 
Which show like grief itself, but are not so : 
For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears, 
Divides one thing entire — to many objects ; 
Like perspectives, which, rightly gazed upon, 
Show nothing but confusion; eyed awry t 
Distinguish form. 

Too Common. Envy, hatred, malice, 
and uncharitableness. How melancholy and 
heart-rending — to reflect upon the vast num- 
ber of professing christians — of all orders, who 
snow, by their deeds, that they are under the 
influence of these infernal passions; altho' 
in their sabbath devotions, they may pray 
against them with their lips,&nd entreat their 
Maker to enable them to keep the law which 
says, "Thou shalt not bear false witness 
against thy neighbor." Let a man of one 
branch of the church, leave it, even from the 
best of motives, and join another, which hap- 
pens to differ from it in religious belief, and 
how soon the air is rent with the political cry, 
* Swot the deserter." Nothing seems too bad 
for the disaffected to say about their marked 

x9 



victim; whose departure from thtm tacitly 
calls in question the infallibility of their doc- 
trines, and thereby wounds their self-love, 
which makes them care more for their party, 
than for the progress of truth. What is tlie 
character, business, peace and happiness of the 
supposed offender, to tlwm, when bent on his 
destruction? Alas! how unlike the conduct 
of the true christian ! Thus is seen the rot- 
tenness of " profession, without princii le." 

Dead Languages. That man must have ■ 
strange value for words, when he can think it 
worth while to hazard the innocence and virtue of 
his son for a litlleGreeA; and Latin; whilst he should 
be laying the solid foundations of knowledge in nil 
mind, and furnishing it with just rules to direct his 
future progress in life. — Locke. 

Anecdote. Dandies. As lady Montague 
was walking through a public garden with a 
party, she was very much annoyed by an 
impertinent coxcomb, who was continually 
making some foolish observation. On ap- 
proaching one of the temples, over which 
there was a Latin inscription, she took ad- 
vantage of it, to expose his ignorance, in the 
hope of putting him to silence. " Pray sir," 
said she, '' be kind enough to explain that in- 
scription to us." " Madam," said he, with an 
affected air, " I really do not know what it 
means, for I see it is dog Latin." " How 
very extraordinary it is," said lady Mary, 
" that puppies should not understand theii 
own language." 

IMAGINATION. 

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, 

Are, of imagination, all compact: 

Urn — sees more devils, than vast hell c$m hold; 

That — is the maarnan: the lover, all a.* frantic, 

Sees Helen's beauty — in a brow of Egypt : 

The poefs eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, [heaven. 

Doth glo.nce from heaven to earth, from earth VO 

And, as imagination bodies forth 

The forms of things unknown, the poet's j*m 

Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing, 

A local habitation, and a name. 

Such tricks hath strong imagination ; 

That, if it would but apprehend some joy, 

It comprehends some bringer of that joy ; 

Or, in the night, imagining some fear, 

How easy is a bush — supposed a bear ? 

An honest soul — is like a ship at sea, 

That sleeps at anchor — upon the occasions calm 

But, when it rages, and the wind blows high, 

She cuts her way — with skill and majesty. 

Varieties. 1. What is the difference be- 
tween acute and chronic disease? 2. It is 
folly for an eminent man to think of escap- 
ing censure,smd a weakness to be affected by 
it. 3. If we had it in our power to gratify 
every wish, we should soon feel a surfeit. 4. 
When anything below God — is the supreme 
object of our love, at some time or other, it 
will be an object of sorrow. 5. Truth— is its 
own witness, and fears not a. free and impar- 
tial examination ; it seeks to be seen in its 
oivn resplendent brightness. 6. fly confes- 
sing our faults to others, we contribute very 
much towards putting them away, and con- 
firming ourselves against them. 7. Which 
is worse — to worship the viorks of our own 
hands, or the creations of our own imagina 
tions ? 



222 



* 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION 




511. Scorn, 
is m-glgem an- 

5cr: it insinuates 
lerelbre, by a 
volunian slack- 
ness, or disarm- 
ing of the nerves, 
a known, or con- 
cluded essence 
of » II power in 
the united ob- 
ject even to 
make t li e de- 
fence seem necessary : and the unbraced muscles 
are assisted inthis sliowof oonlemptuousdisregard, 
by an affected smile upon the eye. because slack- 
nerves, if at the same time the looks were also lan- 
guid, would too much resemble sorrow, or even 
Fear; whereas, the purpose is disdain and insult: 
and tho' in more provoking serious cases, where 
fccorn admits disturbance, it assumes some sense 
of anger, it must still retain the slack unguarded 
languor of the nerves : lest it should seem' to have 
conceived impressions of some estimable and im- 
portant weightiness. where its design is utter dis- 
regard and negligence. 

Age, thou art shamed; 
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods ; 
When went there by an age, since the sun shone, 
But it was famed with more than one man ? 
When could they say, till ?iow, who talked of Rome, 
That her wide walls— encompassed but one man ! 

542. Language of Feeling. There is 
an original element in our natures, a connec- 
tion between the senses, the mind and the 
heart, implanted by the Creator, for pure and 
noble purposes, which cannot be reasoned 
away. You cannot argue men out of their 
senses and feelings; and, after having wea- 
ried yourself and others, by talking about 
books and history, set your foot upon the 
spot, where some great and memorable ex- 
ploit was achieved, especially, with those 
whom you claim kindred, and your heart 
swells within you. You do not now reason ; 
you feel the inspiration of the place. Youi 
cold philosophy vanishes, and you are ready 
to put off your shoes from yoMrfeet; for the 
place whereon you stand is holy. A lan- 
guage which letters cannot shape, which 
sounds cannot convey, speaks, not to the 
head, but to the heart ) not to the understand- 
ing, but to the affections. 

The player's profession, 

Lies not in trick, or attitude, or start, 
Nature's true knowledge is the only art, 
The strong-felt passion bolts into his face; 
The mind untouch'd, what is it but grimace ! 
To this one standard, make your just appeal, 
Here lies the golden secret, learn to feel: 
Or fool, or monarch, happy or distress'd, 
No actor pleases that is not possess'd. 
A single look more marks the internal woe, 
Than all the windings of the lengthening oh ! 
Up to the face the quick sensation flies, 
And darts its meaning from the speaking eyes ; 
Love, transport, madness, anger, scorn, despair, 
Ai<d all the passions, all the soul is there. 

Thoughts ! what are they ? 

They are my constant friends; 

Who, when harsh fate its dull brow bends, 

V a cloud me with a smiling ray, 

Ani, in the depth of midnight, force a day. 



Anecdote. To a man of exalted mina 
the forgiveness of injuries, is productive of 
more pleasure and satisfaction, than obtain* 
ing vengeance. The Roman emperor, Adri- 
an, who was skilled in all the accomplish- 
ments of body and mind, one day seeing a 
person, who had injured him, in his former 
station, thus addressed him, " You are soft 
now; I am emperor" 

Braying. There are braying men in tho 
world as well as braying asses ; for, what's 
loud and senseless ta/Jiing, hnjfing, and 
swearing, any other then a more fashionable 
way of braying ? 

Varieticj. 1. Idlers — should leave the 
industrious to their labor, and visit only those 
who are as idle as tnemselves. 2. There are 
some minds, which, like the buzzard's eye, 
can pass heedlessly over the beauties of na- 
ture, and see nothing but the carcase, rotting 
in the corner. 3. He, is well constituted, who 
grieves not for what he has not, and rejoices 
for that he has. 4. True ease in writing, 
speaking and singing, comes from art, not 
chance. 6. When once a man falls, all will 
tread on him. 7. The action should always 
keep time with the emphasis and the voice : 
it should be the result of feeling, not of 
thought. 

His words were fire, both light and heat ! At once 
With zeal they wanned us and convine'd with rea- 
I had read and heard of eloquence before, [son 
How 't is despotic — takes the heart by storm, 
Where'er the ramparts, prejudice, or use, 
Environ it withal ; how. 'fore its march, 
Stony resolves have given way like fax; 
How it can raise, or lay, the mighty surge 
Of popular commotion, as the wind, 
The wave that frets the sea — but, till to-day, 
I never proved its power. When he began, 
A thousand hearers pricked their ears to list. 
With each a different heart; when he left off, 
Each man could tell his neighbor's by his oivn. 
Rage — is the shortest passion of our souls. 
Like narrow bivoks, fhal rise with sudden shoic } tt i 
It swells in haste, and falls again as soon. 
Still, as it ebbs, the softer thoughts flow in, 
And the deceiver — love — supplies its place. 

VIRTUE THE BEST TREASURE. 

Virtue, the strength and beauty of the soul, 
Is the best gift of Heav'n : a happiness— 
That, even above the smiles and frowns of fate, 
Exalts great nature's/aronto : a wealth 
That ne'er encumbers ; nor to baser hands 
Can be transferr'd. It is the only good — 
Man justly boasts of, or can call his own 
Riches — are oft by guilt and baseness earn'd. 
But for one end, one rawc/j-neglected use, 
Are riches worth our care; (for nature'? wants 
Are few, and without opulence supplied;) 
This noble end is — to produce the soul: 
To show the virtues in their fairest light; 
And make humanity— Xne minister 
Of bounteous Providence. 

I stand —as one upon a rock, 
Environ'd— with a wilderness of sea ; 
Who marks the waxing tide — grow wive by wave 
Expecting ever, when some env cus surge 
Will, in his brinish bowels, swalnw him 



„ 



RINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



223 



543. Shame — or a sense of appearing to a dis- 
advantage, before o/ie's fellow-creatures, turns 
away the face from the beholders, covers it with 
blushes, hangs' the head, casts down the eyes, 
draws clown and contracts the eye-brows; either 
strikes tiie person dumb, or, if he attempts to say 
anything, in his own defence, causes his longue to 
falter, confounds. his utterance, and puts him upon 
making a thousand gestures and grimaces, to keep 
himself in countenance: all which only heightens 
his confusion and embarrassment. 
Oh my dread Lord— 
I ehould be guiltier— than my guiltiness, 
To think— I can live undiscernible, 
When I perceive your grace, like power divine, 
Hath looked upon my passes ; then, good prince, 
No longer session — hold upon my shame, 
But let my trial — be my own confession; 
Immediate sentence then, and sequent death, 
Is all the grace I beg. 

Hard Questions. In every step, which 
reason takes in demonstrative knowledge, 
must there be intuitive certainty ? Does the 
power of intuition, imply that of reasoning, 
when combined with the faculty of memory? 
In examining those processes of thought, 
which conduct the mind, by a series of con- 
sequences, from premises to a conclusion, is 
there any intellectual act whatever, which 
the joint operation of memory, and what is 
called intuition, does not sufficiently ex- 
plain ? What is the distinction between the 
elements of reasoning, and the principles of 
reasoning? If the elements of reasoning are 
employed to connect the concatenations in 
an argument ; and if an argument could not 
be made without the elements of reasoning ; 
does it follow, that the elements of reasoning 
imply the principles of reasoning? If, in 
every step which reason takes in demonstra- 
tive knowledge, there must be intuitive cer- 
tainty, does this necessarily imply anything 
more, than that, without the intuitive power, 
we could not know when one link in the 
chain was completed 1 

5 44. SURPRISE AT UNEXPECTED EVENTS. 

Goiie 10 be married; gone to swear a peace! 
False blood to false blood joined ! Gone to befriends! 
Shall Lewis have Blanch? and Blanch these pro- 
It is not so : thou hast mis-spoke, mis-heard ? [vinces ? 
Be well advised, tell o'er thy tale again : 
It cannot be ! thou dost but say 'tis so ; 
What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head? 
What means that hand — upon that breast of thine? 
Wliy holds thine eye — that lamentable rheum, 
Like a proud river — peering o'er his bounds ? 
Be thete <sad sighs — confirmers of thy words ? 
Then speak again ; not all thy former tale, 
But this one word — whether thy tale be true? 

Anecdote. To Cure Sore Eyes. " Good- 
morning, landlord," said a man the other 
day, as he stepp x d into a tavern to get some- 
thing to drink. * Good-morning, sir," replied 
mine host; " how do you do I" " Oh,J don't 
know," said the man, raising his goggles, and 
wiping away the rheum ; " I'm plagued most 
to death with these ere pesky sore eyes. I 
wish you'd tell me how to aire 'em." " Wil- 
lingly," said the merry host. "Wear your 
goggles over your mouth, wash your eyes in 
Brandy, and I'll warrant a cure." 
^tee—oft is hid in virtue's fair disguise, 
And, in her honored form — escapes inquiring eyes. 



Modesty in a man is never to he allowed at 
a good quality, but a weakness, if it suppresses his 
virtue, and hides it from the world, when he has, 
at the same time, a mind to exert himself. A mod- 
en person seldom fails to gain the good-will of 
those he converses with, because nobody envies a 
man. who does not appear to be pleased wilh 
himself. 

Miscellaneous. 1. It is a striking feature 
in the present day, that men are more and 
more inclined to bring old sayings and doing* 
to the test of questions, as these — what do 
they mean! and what for'! and consequent- 
ly, are beginning to awake from a long men- 
tal sleep, and to assert their right to judge and 
act for themselves. 2. Great hinderance to 
good is often found in the want of energy in 
the character, arising from an individual not 
having accustomed himself to try and do his 
best, on all occasions. 3. Whoever would 
become a person of intelligence and prud- 
ence, in any of the departments of life, must 
early accustom himself and herself to look 
for the meaning of his own and others' say- 
ings ; and consider well the end and object ot 
his own, and others' doings. 
For often vice — provok'd to shame — * 

Borrows the color — of a virtuous deed : 
Thus, libertines — are chaste, and misers — good, 
A coward — valiant. 
That holy Shame, which ne'er forgets 

What clear renown — it used to wear; 
Whose blush remains, when Virtue sets, 

To show her sunshine— has been there. 

Aflush, [cheek, 
(As shame, deep shame, had once burnt on her 
Then linger'd there forever) look'd like health 
Offering hope, vain hope, to the pale lip ; 
Like the rich crimson— of the evening sky, 
Brightest — when night is coming. 
Wise men — ne'er sit and wail their loss, 
But cheerly seek how to redress their harms, 
What tho' the mast — be now blown orer-board, 
The cable broke, the holding anchor lost, 
And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood. 7 
Yet lives our pilot still : Is 't meet, that he 
Should leave the helm, and, like a fearful lad, 
With tearful eyes, add water to the sea, 
And give more strength to that which hath loo much; 
Whiles, in his moan, the ship splits on the rock, 
Which industry — and courage — might have sav'd? 

"Varieties. 1. It is icrong to affront any' 
body ; and he who does it, must expect to bV 
paid in his own coin. 2. Many persons, m 
easy circumstances, often ruin themselves, 
by attempting to vie with the rich. 3. Do not 
the works of God, as well as his Word — teach 
lessons of wisdom ? 4. .Erm, thing tends to 
produce its likeness ; the idle make their as- 
sociates idle ; the liberiine — corrupts the in- 
nocent ; the quarrelsome — create broils ; 
gamesters — make gamesters, and thieves, - 
thieves. 5. Are thinking and motion — all 
the actions of which we can conceive '! think' 
ing — being an act of the mind, as motion \% 
of matter? 6. Which invention is more Mi 
portant, that of the mariner's compass, or lb* 
art of printing? 7. When we truly love 
God, we shall also love one another. 

The real patriot — bears his private wrongs, 
Rather than right them — at the public cost. 



S524 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



545. Suspicion : Jealousy. Fear of imother's 
endeavoring 10 prevent our attainment of the de- 
wed good, raises our suspicion ; anil suspicion of 
his having obtained, or likely to obtain it, raises, 
or constitutes jealousy. Jealousy between the 
sexes — is a ferment of love, hatred, hope, fear, 
shame, anxiety grief, pity, suspicion, envy, pride, 
rage, cruelty, vengeance, sadness, and every o</t- 
er tormenting passion, which can agitate the 
human mind. Therefore, to express it well, 
one should know how to represent all these pas- 
sions by turns, and often several of them together : 
it shows itself by restlessness, peevishness, thought- 
fulness, anxiety, and absence of mind. Some- 
times it bursts out into piteous complaints and 
weeping: then a gleam of hope, that all is yet 
well, lights up the counter.ar.ee into a momenta- 
ry smile : immediately the face, clouded with gen- 
eral gloom, shows the mind over-cast again with 
horrid suspicions, and frightful imaginations ; thus 
the jtalous — is a prey to the most tormenting feel- 
ings, and is alternately tantalized with hope, and 
plunged into despair. 

Who finds the heifer dead, and bleeding fresh, 
And sees fast by a butcher with an axe. 
But will suspect, 'twas he that made th«* slaughter? 
Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest, 
But may imagine how the bird was dead, 
Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak % 

546. Hanps, Fket.and Arms. Observe 
accurately, the different positions of the feet, 
hands, arms, &c. of the oratorical and poet- 
ical engravings, and that of the passions; 
and study out the various causes, or subjects, 
and states of thoughts and feelings, prompt- 
ing them; and, in imitating them, there 
will often be suggested to you the appropri- 
ate feeling and thought. Each engraving 
should be made a particular subject of study ; 
an d there is more matter on a page of en- 
gravings, than on any printed page; but, in 
speaking, never think about making gestures ; 
let them be the result of unrestrained feel- 
ing, and they will be more likely to be right: 
guard, sedulously against all affectation, and 
do nothing you do not feel and think. If 
these hints and suggestions are not of use to 
you, more would be of but little service; and 
to illustrate every one, and many more, you 
will find an abundance of examples in the 
tdork; which is designed for those who 
think. 

Would he -were fatter / but I fear him not : 

Ves, if my name were liable to fear, 

I do not know the man, I should avoid 

So soon as this spare Cassius. He reads much; 

He is a great observer, and he looks 

Quite through the deeds of men. 

He loves no plays; he hears no music ; 

Seldom he smiles; and smiles in such a sort, 

As if he mocked himself, and scorned his spirit, 

That could be moved to smile at anything. 

Such men as he, be never at hearfs ease, 

Whilst they behold a greater than themselves, 

And therefore, are they very dangerous. 

Anecdote. Queen Caroline, having ob- 
served that her daughter, the princess, had 
made one of the ladies about her, stand a 
long time, while the princess was talking to 
her, on some trifling subject, was resolved to 
Kive her a suitable reprimand. Therefore, 
when the princess came, in the evening, to 
read to her mother, as usual, and was draw- 
ing a chair to sit down, the queen said to her, 



No, my dear, you must not sit,' for I intend 
to make you stand, this evening, as long as 

you made lady B remain in the same 

position. 

Laconic. There is no difference betweea 
knowledge and temperance ; for he, who knows 
what is good, and embraces it, who knows what 
is bad, and avoids it, is learned and temperate. But 
they, who know very well what ought to be done, 
and yet do quite otherwise, are ignorant and stupid 

Varieties. 1. What is the difference be- 
tween possessing the good things of life, and 
enjoying them! 2. In our intercourse with 
others, we should ascertain what they wish 
to hear ; not what we wish to say. 3. True 
politeness may be cherished in the hovel, as 
well as in the palace ,- and the most tattered 
clothing, cannot conceal its charms. 4. Is 
not trite religiim — eternally the same, what- 
ever may be the conduct of its professors ? 
5. Humility — learns Die lessons from itself/ 
while it never scorns the instructions of oth- 
ers. 6. Beauty — gains nothing, and home- 
liness — loses much, by gaudy attire. 7. 
Music — tends to harmonize and melodize 
the affections and thoughts, as well as to an- 
imate, and lubricate the inventive faculties. 
8. Everything that originates in order, is 
truth, which manifests itself by virtue of its 
inherent light. 9. The groves and the woods 
are the musical academies of the singing 
birds. 10. Time and space are confined to 
matter. 
As Nature and Garrick were talking one day, 

It chanced they had words, and fell out ; 
Dame Reason would fain have prevented a fray, 

But could not, for both were so stout. 
Says Garrick, I honor you, madam, ; tis true, 

And with pride, to your laws, I submit ; 
But Shakspeare paints stronger and better than you, 

All critics of taste will admit. 
How ! Shakspeare pairit better and stronger than J, 

(Cries Nature, quite touch'd to the soul ;) 
Not a word in his volumes I ever could see, 

But what from my records he stole. 
And thou, wicked thief. — nay. the story I'll tell, 

Whenever I paint, or I draw, 
My pencils you filch, and my colors you steal, 

For which thou shalt suffer the law ; 
And when on the stage, in full lustre you shine, 

To me all the praise shall be given : 
The toil shall be yours, and the honor be mine. 

So Nature and Garrick are even. 
Foul jealousy, that turnest love divine 

To joyless dread, and mak'st the loving heart 
With hateful thoughts to languish and to pina, 

And feed itself with self-consuming smart, 

Of all the passions in the mind, thou vilest ar* 
O, let him far be banished away, 

And in his stead let love forever dwcil , 
Sweet love, that doth his golden wings embay 

In blessed nectar, and pure pleasure's well, 

Untroubled of vile fear or bitter fell. 

The soul of man • 
Createth its own destiny of power ; 
And, as the trial, — is intense here, 
His being — hath a nobler strength in heaven. 
O marriage ! marriage.' what a curse — >* thine, 
Where hands, alone, consent- -and hearts -abhor 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



225 



247. Teaching, Instructing, Explaining, 
Inculcating, or Giving Orders, requires a mild, 
serene air, sometimes approaching to an authori- 
tative gravity; the features and gestures altering 
according to the age, or dignity of the pupil, or au- 
dience, and importance of the subject discussed. 
To youth, it should be mild, open, serene, and con- 
descending. To equals and superiors, modest and 
diffident; but, when the subject is of great dignity 
and importance, the air and manner of conveying 
the instruction, ought to be firm and emphatical ; 
the eye steady and open, the eyebrow a little 
drawn over it, but not so much as to look dogmat- 
ical; the voice strong, steady, clear; the articula- 
tion distinct; the utterance slow, and the manner 
approaching to confidence, rather peremptory. 

Pol. Where/ore, gentle maiden, 
Do you neglect your g£%-flowers and carnations ? 

Per. I have heard it said, 
There is an art, which, in their piedness, shares 
With great creating nature. 

Pol. Say there be ; 
Yet nature is made better by no mean, 
But nature makes that mean ; so, over that art, 
Which you say adds to nature, is an art 
Which cature makes; you see, sweet maid, we 
A gentler scion to the wildest stock ; [marry 

And make conceive a bark of baser kind 
By bud of nobler race. This is an art 
Which does mend nature, change it rather ; but 
The art itself is nature. 

548. Language of the Feet. The feet 
advance or retreat, to express desire or aver- 
sion, love or hatred, courage or fear, dancing 
or leaping, — is often the effect of joy and ex- 
ultation; stamping of the feet expresses 
t arnestness, anger or threatening. Stability 
cf position and facility of change, general ease 
and grace of action, depend on the right use 
of the feet ; see the whole length engravings, 
a large part of which is to be imitated, not 
with any specifie recitations in view, but for 
the purpose of disciplining the limbs and 
muscles. 




pitiable. terror. 

The bay-trees, in our country, are all withered, 
And meteors— fright the fixed stars of heaven ; 
The pale-faced moon— looks bloody on the earth, 
And lean-iook'd prophets— whisper fearful change; 
Ruik men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap, 
The one, in fear to lose what they enjoy, 
The other, to enjoy— by rage and war. 

Go to your bosom ; 
ICaoek there; and ask your heart what it doth knew 
That's like my brother's faufc : if it confess 
A natural guiltiness, such as his is, 
Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue 
Against my brother. 

BB.ONSON. 15 



Iiaconics. 1. It is very easy, when a child 
asks a silly question, to show that it is so; and, i f 
the question cannot be answered, it is tetter to 
say so at once ; for a child has too much common 
perception to expect that his parent knows ev'ry 
thing ; but to refuse to answer, without giving a 
reason, impresses the child, that his parent is un- 
kind and unreasonable. 2. The very sight of a 
child ought to inspire a parent, or teacher, with 
the thought, "What can I say to be useful to him? 
or what can I say to please him?" 3. The habit 
of talking familiarly and usefully to his children, 
to each according to his capacity, is an invahiabla 
quality in a parent, and its exercise will be de- 
lightful to both. 4. Let it be a rule with us, in all 
cases, never to charge want of charity, except 
where we can, from a want of justice. 

Anecdote. Sir Isaac Newton — possessed 
a remarkably mild and even temper. On a 
particular occasion, he was called out of his 
study, to an adjoining apartment, when his 
favorite little dog, named Diamond, threw 
down a lighted lamp among his papers, and 
the almost finished labors of many years, were 
consumed in a few moments. Sir Isaac soon 
returned, and beheld, with great mortification, 
his irreparable loss,- but he only exclaimed, 
with his usual self-possession, " Diamond. 
Diamond ! thou little knowest the mischtej 
thou hast done." 

You undergo too strict a paradox, 

Striving to make an ugly deed look fair: 

Your words have took such pains, as if they labortl 

To bring manslaughter into form, set quarreling 

Upon the head of valor; which, indeed, 

Is valor misbegot, and came into the world 

When sects and factions were newly barn: 

He's truly valiant, that can urisely suffer 

The worst, that man can breathe; and make his wrongs 

His outsides; wear them, like hit raiment, carelessly; 

And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart, 

To bring it into danger. 

If wrongs be evils, and enforced, us hill, 

What folly 'tis, to hazard life for til? 

Varieties. 1. Is toleration a duty for oth- 
ers, and not for ourselves ? 2. One blessing 
of life, my dear friend, is — to give. 3. It is nc 
proof of freedom from error, that we are acute 
in distinguishing the errors of others; this 
shows that all reformers, are men of like pas- 
sions with ourselves. 4. National industry 
is the principal thing, that can make a nation 
great ; it is the vestal fire, which we must keep 
alive, and consider that all our prosperity is 
coupled with its existence. 5. If we are fit 
for heaven, are we not fit for earth ? 6. It ia 
better to live contentedly in our condition, 
than to affect to look bigger than we are, by a 
borrowed appearance. 7. Give your children 
education rather than fine clothes, or rich food. 
8. Love — never reckons; the mother does rtDt 
run up a milk score against her babe. 

Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty: 
For, in my youth, I never did apply 
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood ; 
Nor did not, with unbashful forehead, woo 
The means of weakness and debility; 
Therefore, my age — is as a lusty winter, 
Frosty, but kindly. 

Give me that man 
That is not passion's slave, and I will wear kim 
In my heart's core, ay, my heart of heart 



226 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



549. Veneration. In religious veneration, 
tlie body always bends forward, as ii ready to 
prostrate Itself before the Lord of Hosts ; the 
arras are spread out. bill modestly, as bigh as the 

breast, ami til* hands are open; thetone of 
voice is submissive, timid, trembling, weak, aup- 
p ianl ; the words are brought out with a visible 
anxiety, approaching to hesitation : they are few, 
and sow.y pronounced ; nothing of vain repeti- 
tion, haranguing, flowers of rhetor c, or reflected 
figures of speech ; al! simplicity, humility, lowli- 
ness, such as become a worm of dust, when pre- 
suming to address the high and lofty One. who 
inhabiteth Eternity ; yet dwelleth with the meek 
and contrite spirit, that trembleth at liis Word. 
In intercession for our fallow creatures, and in 
thanksgiving, we naturally assume a small de- 
gree of cheerfulness, beyond what is clothed in 
confession and deprecation : all affected orna- 
ments in speech or gesture, in devotion, are 
f ery censurable. Example : 

Hail, Source of Being! Universal So%d 
Of heaven and earth! Essential Presence, hail! 
To Thee — I bend the knee ; to Thee my thoughts 
Continual climb ; who, with a master band, 
Hast the great whole into perfection touched." 
Almighty God,— 'tis right, — 'tis just.. 
That earthly forms should turn to dust ; 
But oh ! the sweet— transporting truth, 
The soul — shall bloom — in endless youth. 

550. Natural Language or the 
Haxps. The hand — has a great share in 
expressing our thoughts and feelings : raising 
the hands towards heaven, with the palms 
united, expresses devotion and supplication ; 
wringing them, grief; throwing them towards 
heaven, admiration ; dejected hands, despair 
and amazement; folding them, idleness; 
holding the fingers intermingled,musing and 
thoughtfulness ; holding them forth together, 
yielding and submission; lifting them and 
the eyes to heaven, solemn appeal; waving 
the hand from us, prohibition ; extending the 
right hand to any one, peace, pity, and safety ; 
scratching the 'head, care and perplexing 
thought ; laying the right hand on the heart, 
affection and solemn affirmation; holding 
up the thumb, approbation ; placing the 
right forefinger on the lips perpendicularly, 
bidding silence, &c. &c. In these, and many 
other ways, are manifested our sentiments 
and passions by the action of the body : but 
they are shown principally in the face, and 
particularly in the turn of the eye, and the 
eyebrows, and the infinitely various motions 
of the lips. 

551* Wonder — is inquisitive fear: and as it 

is inquisitive, it is steadfast, and demands firm 
muscles : but as it is fear, it cannot be properly 
expressed without the mark of apprehension and 
alarm. Were this alarm too much disturbed, 
full of motion and anxiety, it would then be Fear 
instead of Wonder, and would carry no consis- 
tence, with braced muscles ; it is therefore 
nerved, because inquisitive, with purpose of de- 
fence : and so, this application of alarm, with re- 
solution to examine steadfastly, must constitute 
a nervous, awful, fixed altentiveness, and give 
the pictu-e of the passion naturally. The effect 
of wonder is, to stop, or hold the mind and body 
in the states and positions in which the idea or 
object strikes us. 

Says the earth to the moon,' 1 You're a pilfring jade, 
What you steal from the sun, is beyond all be- 
fair Cynthia replies, "Hold your prate, [lief;" 
The yartiker -is as bad as the thief. " 



Anecdote. The benevolent and imnort^ 
John HoV>ard, a celebrated Enp,l ; .sh //Ai/n?*. 
thropist, having settled his account', x\ *.ha 
close of a particular year, and fouud a bal- 
ance in his favor, proposed to his wheio em- 
ploy it, in defraying the expenses of a y or- 
ney to London ; or for any other amusement 
she might prefer. " What a pretty cottage," 
she replied, " would this build for u p^or 
family." The charitable hint met hie cp/-*>- 
balion, and thle money was laid out oca** 
ingly. 

No more thus brooding o'er yon heap, 
With avWice painful vigils keep ; 
Still unenjoy'd the present store, 
Still endless sighs are breath'd for mort 
Oh ! quit the shadow, catch the prize, 
W r hich not all India's treasure buys ! 
To purchase heav'n, has gold the pow'r \ 
Can gold remove the mortal hour ? 
In life, can love be bought with gold ? 
Are friendship's pleasures to be sold ? 
JVo — all that's worth a wish — a thought. 
Fair virtue gives, unbrib'd, unbought. 
Cease, then, on trash thy hopes to bind ; 
Let nobler views engage thy mind. 

"Varieties. 1. When we are polite to 
others, entirely for our own sakes, we are de- 
ceitful; for nothing selfish has truth and 
goodness in it. But there is such a thing as 
true politeness, always kind, never deceitful. 
2. The outward forms of politeness, are but 
the expressions of such feelings, as should 
dwell in every human heart 3. Ti-ue politeness 
is the spontaneous movement of a good heart, 
and an observing mind. 4. Will the ruling 
propensities of the parent, be transmitted to 
the child,znd affect, and give bias to his char- 
acter? 5. Fiolish people are sometimes so 
ambitious of being thought ivise, that they 
often run great hazards in attempting to shtjze 
themselves such. 6. Guilt may attain tempo- 
ral splendor, but can never confer real happi- 
ness. 7. The principles, which your reason 
and judgment approve, avow boldly, and ad- 
here to steadfastly; nor let any false notions 
of honor, or pitiful ambition of shining, ever 
tempt you to forsake them. 

A TALE OF WONDER. 

Now the laugh shakes the hall, and the ruddy 

Who, who is so merry and gay 1 [wine flo ws ; 
Lemona is happy, for little she knows 
Of the monster so grim, that lay hush"d in repose, 

Expecting his evening prey. 
While the music play'd sweet, and, with tripping 

Bruno dane'd thro' the maze of the hall; [so light, 
Lemona retir'd, and her maidens in white, 
Led her up to her chamber, and bid her good night, 

Then, went down again to the hall. 
The monster of blood — now extended his claw$, 

And from under the bed did he creep ; [paws ; 
With blood all besmear'd, he now stretch'd out hit 
With blood all besmear'd, he now stretch'd out 

To feed — on the angel — asleep. [his jaw*. 

He seiz'd on a vein, and gave such a bite, 

And he gave, with his fangs, such a tug — 
She shriek' d t Bruno ran up the 6tairs in a frig\t • 
The gue3ts follow'd after, when bro't to the light, 

"O have mercy!" they cried, "what a B UQt u 

You'll ne'er convince a. fool, himself is so. 






PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



22? 



652. Vexation, occasioned by some real or 
imaginary misfortune, agitates the whole frame ; 
and, besides expressing itself with looks, tones, 
gestures and restlessness of perplexity, adds to 
these complaint, fretting, lamentation, and re- 
morse. 

ON NEGLECTING ONE'S DUTY. 

O what a rogue and peasant slave am I ; 

Is it not monstrous, that this player here, 

But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, 

Could force his soul so to his own counsel. 

That, from her working, all his visage warmed ; 

Ttars in. his eyes, distraction in his aspect, 

K broken voice, and his whole function suiting, 

With forms to his conceit; and all for nothing; 

For Hec-u-ba ! What 's Hec-u-ba to him, or he, to 

That he shou.d weep for her? [Hecuba, 

553. Language of the Head. Every 
part of the body contributes to express our 
thoughts and affections ; hence the necessity 
of training the ivhole man. The head is some- 
times erect, denoting courage, or firmness; 
at others, down, or reclined, expressive of sor- 
row, grief and shame ; again, it is suddenly 
drawn back, with an air of disdain, or shaken, 
as in dissent ; or brought forward in assent ; 
sometimes it shows, by a significant nod, a 
particular object, or person ; threatens by one 
set of movements, approves by another, and 
expresses suspicion by another. Private 
practice must make all involuntary. 

As yet — 'tis midnight deep. The weary clouds, 

Slow meeting, mingle into solid gloom. 

Now, while the drowsy world lies lost in sleep, 

Get me associate with the serious night, 

And contemplation, her sedate compeer; 

Let me shake offth' intrusive cares of day, 

And lay the meddling senses all aside. 

Where noio, ye lying vanities of life! 

Ye ever tempting, ever cheating train! 

Where are you now? and what is your amount? 

Vexation, disappointment, and remorse. 

Sad, sickening thought ! And yet, deluded man, 

A scene of crude disjointed visions past, 

And broken slumbers, rises still resolv'd, 

With new flush'd hopes, to run the giddy round. 

554. Language of the Face. The face, 
being furnished with a great variety of mus- 
cles, does more in manifesting our thoughts 
and feelings, than the whole body besides; 
so far as silent language is concerned. The 
change of color— shows anger by redness, 
fear — by paleness, and shame — by blushes,- 
every feature contributes its portion. The 
mouth open, sbows one state of mind ; closed, 
another, and gnashing the teeth — another. 
The forehead smooth, and eye-brows easily 
arched, exhibit joy, or tranquillity ; mirth 
opens the mouth towards the ears, crisps 
She nose, half shuts the eyes, and sometimes 
suffuses them with tears ; the front, wrinkled 
into frowns, and the eye-brows overhanging 
trie eyes, like clouds fraught with tempests, 
show a mind agitated with pity. 

There is a history— in all men's lives, 
Figuring the nature of the times deceased : 
The which observed, a man may prophecy, 
With a near aim, of the main chance of things 
As yet not come to life; which, in their seeds, 
And weak beginnings, lie intreasured. 

*«*wn/-gives the mmd a childish cast. 



Moderation in Disputes. When we are 
in a condition to overthrow/a/se/ioorf and error, we 
ought not to do it with vehemence, nor insultingly 
and with an air of contempt; but to lay open tiie 
truth, and with answers, full of mildness, to refute 
the falsehood. 

Anecdote. An amiable youth, lamented 
deeply, the recent death of a most affectionate 
parent. His companion made an effort to 
console him, by the reflection, that he had al- 
ways behaved towards the deceased with du- 
ty, tenderness and respect. "Sol thought," 
replied the son, " while my parent was liv- 
ing ; but now I recollect, with pain and sor- 
row, many instances of disobedience, and 
neglect, for which, alas! it is too late tj 
make atonement." 

Happy the school-boy ! did he prize his bliss, 
'Twere ill exchang'd— for all the dazzling gems. 
That gaily sparkle in ambition's eye ; 
His are the joys of nature, his the smile, 
The cherub smile of innocence and health, 
Sorrow unknown, or, if a tear be shed, 
He wipes it soon : for hark ! the cheerful voice 
Of comrades calls him to the top, or ball; 
Away he hies, and clamors as he goes, 
With glee, which causes him to tread on air. 

Reason. Without reason, as on a tern 
pestuous sea, we are the sport of every ivind 
and wave, and know not, till the event hath 
determined it, how the next billow will dis- 
pose of us; whether it will dash us against a 
rock, or drive us into a quiet harbor. 
What stronger breast-plate than a heart untainted ' 
Thrice is he arm'd, that hath his quarrel just; 
And he, but naked, though lock'd up in steel, 
Whose conscience — with injustice is corrupted. 

"Varieties. 1. The dullest creatures are 
sometimes as dangerous as the fairest. 2 
He, who puts a man off from time to time, is 
never right at heart. 3. What can reason per- 
form, unassisted by the imagination? While 
reason traces and compares effects, does not 
imagination suggest causes? 4. Whenever we 
are more inclined to persecute than persuade, 
we may be certain, that our zeal has more of 
self-love in it, than charity; that we are seek- 
ing victory, more than truth, and are begin- 
ning to feel more for ourselves, than for others, 
and the cause of righteousness. 5. Is it pos- 
sible, without divine aid, to obey the com- 
mandments? 6. As soon think of sending 
a man into the field, without good tools, as a 
child to school, without proper books. 7. 
What is more low and vile, than lying ? and 
when do we lie more notoriously, than in dis- 
paraging, and finding fault with a thing, for 
no other reason, than because it is out of our 
power to accomplish it T 
Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bid. 
The breath of night 's destructive to the hue 
Of every flower that blows. Go to Xhefeld, 
And ask the humble daisy, why it sleeps 
Soon as the sun departs. Why close the tyi% 
Of blossoms infinite, ere the still moon 
Her oriental vail puts off? Think why, 
Nor let the sweetest blossom be exposed, 
That nature boasts, to night's untimely damp. 
There is no merit, whe.i there is no trial; 
And, till experience— stamps the mark of strength., 
Cowards — may pass for heroes, faith, for falsehood. 



228 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



555. The eyes, considered only as tangi- 
ble objects, are, by their very forms, the win- 
dows of the soul — the fountains of life and 
tight. Mere feeling would discover, that 
their size and globular shape are not unmean- 
ing. The eye-brow, whether gradually sunk- 
en, or boldy prominent, is equally worthy of 
attention : as likewise are the temples, wheth- 
er hollow, or smooth. That region of the face, 
which includes the eye-brows, eyes and nose, 
also includes the chief region of the will 
and understanding. 

Nature hath framed strange felloibs in her time : 

Some, thst will evermore peep through their eyes, 

And laugh, like parrots, at a 6ag-piper ; 

And otlter of such vinegar aspect, 

That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, 

Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. 

556. The images of our secret agitations 
are particularly painted in the eyes, which 
appertain more to the soul, than any other 
organ ; which seem affected by, and to par- 
ticipate in all its emotions ; express sensa- 
tions the most lively, passions the most tu- 
multuous, feelings the most delightful, and 
sentiments the most delicate. The eye — ex- 
plains them in all their force and purity, as 
ehey take birth, and transmits them by traits 
so rapid., as to infuse into other minds the 
fire, the activity, the very image, with which 
themselves are inspired. It receives and re- 
flects the intelligence of thought and warmth 
of the understanding. 

One world sufficed not Alexander's mind : 
Cooped up he seem'd, in earth and seas confin'd ; 
And struggling, stretch'd his restless limbs about 
The narrow globe, to find a passage out : 
Yet, enterd in the brick-built town, he try'd 
The tomb, and found the straight dimensions wide. 
Death only, this mysterious truth unfolds, 
The mighty soul — how small a body holds. 

557. Language op the Eyes. The eye 
ts the chief seat of the soul's expression; it 
rfhows the very spirit in a visible form. In 
every different state of mind, it appears dif- 
ferently': joy — brightens and opens it ; grief, 
half closes, and drowns it, in tears ; hatred, 
and anger, flash from it, like lightning ; 
love — darts from it in glances, like the orient 
beam ,• jeaUmsy — and squinting envy, dart 
their contagious blasts through the eyes ; and 
devotion — raises them, or throws them back 
on the mind, as if the soul were about to 
take its flight to heaven. 

Trom women's eyes— this doctrine 1 derive : 
They sparkle still— the right Promethean fire ; 
They are the books, the arts, the academies, 
That show, contain, and nourish— -all the world ; 
FJse none at all— in aught— proves excellent. 
Old age — is honorable; the spirit — seems 
J'ady — for Ms flight — to brighter worlds, — 
And that strange change, which men miscallefecat/, 
Is renovated life. The feeble voice, 
With which the soul attempts to speak its meaning, 
Is like the sAy-lark's note, heard faintest, when 
Its wing soars highest; and whose hoary signs, 
Those white and reverend locks, which move the 
Of ihoug'.itless ribalds, seem to me like snow, [scorn 
Upon the Alpine summit,— only proving— 
How near it is — to heaven. 



Anecdote. Tweedle-dum and TweeAfr 
dee. About the year 1720, there were two 
musical parties in England; one in favor of 
two Italians, Buo-non-ci-ni and AX-til-io, and 
the other admirers of Handel : and the con- 
tention running, high, Dean Swift, with hia 
usual acrimony in such cases, wrote the fol- 
lowing epigram : 
Some say, that signior Buononcini, 
Compared to Handel's a mere ninny : • 

Others do swear, that to him — Handtl 
Is hardly fit to hold a candle. 
Strange— lha.1 such high contests should be 
'Twixt tweedle-dum — and tweedle-dee. 
True Phrenology — treats of the mani- 
festations of man's feelings and intellect ; 
his heart and his head ; his will and under 
standing; and their related objects, physical, 
and moral ; principles, giving a knowledge 
of one's original character ; of his excellen- 
cies and talents, and'how to make the most 
of them ; of his defects, and how to remedy 
them ; of reasoning and persuading — of ed- 
ucation and self-government : a system of 
mental and moral philosophy, challenging 
investigation. 

Varieties. 1. All are modest, when they feel 
that they are estimated, at what they consid- 
der their just value; and incline to presume, in 
the proportion they feel they are slighted. 2. It 
signifies but little — to wish well, without doing 
well ; as to do well, without willing it. 3. None 
is so great, but that he may one day need the help, 
or feel the unkindness — of the meanest of mortals. 
4. The more business a man has, the more he is 
able to accomplish : for he learns to economize his 
time. 5. A ready recollection of our knowledge, 
at the moment we have use for it, is a rare and 
important acquisition. 6. The passions are plead- 
ers, and their violence sometimes goes directly to 
the heart. 7. As a vessel is known by the sound- 
whether it is whole or not, so, men are known by 
speeches and actions, whether they are wise ot 
foolish. 

All the souls that were, were forfeit once, 
And He, that might the 'vantage best have took, 
Found out the remedy. How would you be, 
If He, which is the top of judgment, should 
But judge you as you are ? O, think on that, 
And mercy then, will breathe within your lips. 
Like man new made. 

If pow'rs divine 
Behold our human actions, (as they do,) 
I doubt not then, but innocence shall make 
False accusation — blush, and tyranny — 
Tremble at patience. 
That happy minglement of hearts, 
Where, changed as chemic compounds are, 
Each— with its own existence parts, 
To find a new one, happier far. 
We — ignorant of ourselves, 
Beg after our own harm, which the wise powmn 
Deny us — for our good ; so find we profit, 
By losing our prayers. 
So very still that echo seems to listen ; 
We almost hear the music of the spheres, 
And fancy that we catch the notes of angels. 
High stations tumult, but not bliss creste. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



557. The Mouth. Who does not know 
aow mi ch the upper lip betokens the sensa- 
tions of taste, desire, appetite, and the endear- 
ments of love 1 how much it is curled by pride 



ling to it by indescribable traits. The under 
lip is litte more than its supporter, the easy 
cushion m which the crown of majesty re- 
poses. The chaste and delicate mouth, is one 
of the first recommendations we meet with in 
common life. Words are the pictures of the 
mind ,• we often judge of the heart by the 
portal ; it holds the flaggon of truth, of love, 
and enduring friends hip. A 

If there's on eafya. cure 
For the stink heart, 'tis this — day after day 
To he the blest companion of thy way ! — 
To hear thy angel eloquence— to see 
Those virtuous eyes forever turn'd on me; 
And, in their light, re-chasten'd silently, 
Like the stain'd web, that whitens in the sun, 
Grow pure — by being purely shone upon! 

558. Language op the Arms and 
Hands. The arms are sometimes both thrown 
out; at others the right alone ; they are lifted 
up as high as the face, to express wonder, or 
held outbefore the breast to show fear,- when 
spread forth with open hands, they express 
iesire and affection ; or clasped in surprise on 
occasions of sudden grief and joy; the right 
nand clenched, and the arms brandished — 
threaten ; the arms set a-kimbo, (one hand on 
sach hip,) makes one look big, or expresses 
contempt, or courage. 

As a beam— o'er the face of the waters— may glow, 
While the tide— runs in darkness and coolness below, 
So, the cheek may be tinged— with a warm sunny smile, 
Though the cold heart— to ruin— runs darkly the while. 
One fatal remembrance, one sorrow, that throws 
Its bleak shade— alike, o'er our joys, and our woes; 
To which life — nothing darker, or brighter, can bring, 
For which joy— has no balm, and affliction— no sting! 
Oh ! this thought, in the midst of enjoyment will stay, 
Like a dead leafless branch— in the summer's bright ray; 
The beams of the warm sun— play round it in vain, 
It may smile — in his light — hut it blooms not again ! 

559. Qutnctileian says, that with the 
hands, we solicit, refuse, promise, threaten, 
dismiss, invite, entreat, and express aversion, 
fear, doubting, denial, asking, affirmation, 
negation, joy, grief, confession and penitence. 
With the hands we describe, and point all 
circumstances of time, place and manner of 
what we relate ; with them we also excite the 
passions of others and soothe them, approve 
or disapprove, permit, prohibit, admire and 
despise; thus, they serve us instead of many 
sorts of words; and, where'the language of the 
tongue is unknown, or the person is deaf, the 
language of the hands is understood, and is 
common to all nations. 

Between two worlds — life hovers like a star, 
Twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge: 

How little — do we know that which we are! 
How less— what we may be ! The eternal surge 

Of time and ride— rolls on, and bears afar 
Our bubbles'; as the old — burst, new — emerge, 

Lash'd — from the foam of ages ; while the graves 

&f empires — heave, but like some passing waves. 
Your very goodness, and your company, 
O'erpay all th't I can do. 

u 



Laconics. 1. There is no great necessity for 
us to be anxious about what good works we shall 
do, in order to salvation ; because the business of 
religion is— to shun all evils as sins. 2. Never be 
so sinfully inconsistent, as to tell a child, that sjich 
and such things are naughty, and then, because 
his self-will is unyielding, leave him to persist in 
doing it ; better, far better would it be, to let tho 
poor child do wrong, in ignorance. 3. Every one 
should receive a scientific, civil, and religious ed- 
ucation, and then he will be fitted for the life thai 
now is, and that which is to come. 4. Teach 
children what is good and true, and lead them Xtt 
goodness, by precept and example. 5. Gratitude 
is the sure basis of an amiable mind. 

Anecdote. Right of Discovery. A gen- 
tleman, praising the personal charms of a ve- 
ry homely woman, before Mr. Foot, the come- 
dian, who whispered to him, "And why don't 
you lay claims to such an accomplished beau- 
ty I" " What right have I to her '{ " said the 
other. "Every right — by the law of nations, 
as the first discoverer." 
Meanwhile, we'll sacrifice to liberty. 
Remember, O my friends, the laws, the rights, 
The generous plan of power delivered down, 
From age to age, by your renowned forefather^ 
(So dearly bought, the price of so much blood;) 
O let it never perish in your hands, 
But piously transmit it to your children. 
Do thou, great liberty, inspire our souls, 
And make our lives, in thy possession, happy, 
Or our deaths glorious— in thy just defence. 

Varieties. 1. Will the time ever arrive, 
when the air will be as full of balloons, as the 
ocean now is with ships? 2. Reading history 
and traveling, give a severe trial to our vir 
tues. 3. It is not right to feel contempt for 
any thing, to which God has given life and 
being. 4. Four things belong to a judge . 
to hear cautiously, to answer wisely, to con- 
sider soberly, and to give judgment withoul 
partiality. 5. Regard talents and genius, as 
solemn mandates to go forth, and labor in 
your sphere of usefulness, and to keep alive 
the sacred fire among your fellow men,- and 
turn not these precious gifts, into servants of 
evil; neither offer them on the altar of vanity, 
nor sell them for a mess of potage, nor a piece 
of money. 6. The last war between the Uni- 
ted States and England, commenced on the 
18th of June, 1812, and continued two years, 
eight months and eighteen days ; when did it 
end? 7. Let us manage our time as well as 
we can, there will yet some of it remain un- 
employed. 

HI fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, 
When wealth accumulates, and men decay. 
Princes, and lords, may flourish, or may fade; 
A breath can make them, as a breath has mada 
But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, 
When once destroy'd, can never be supplied 
The kindest, and the happiest pair, 
Will find occasion — to forbear; 
And every day, in which they live, 
To pity, and, perhaps,/brgrre. 

Full many a shaft— at random sent. 

Finds mark — the archer never meant; 

And many a word — at random spoken, 

May soothe, or wound— a. heart that's i 



230 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



5GO> POLYBLOTT OF BODY AOTD MlND. 

Thus, we see that the body, in connection 
with the mind, speaks mam/' languages; and 
he is a teamed aocutionist, who understands 
and can speak them. In view of which, well 
might Hamlet exclaim, " what a piece of 
■work is max !" Observe well this strange 
being, as embodied in the works of the pain- 
ter, and statuary : in what kingly wondrous 
manner, appear his force of attitude and 
looks ! "Who, but would covet the glorious 
art of making the flat canvas and rocky 
marble, utter every passion of the human 
mind, and touch the soul of the spectator, as 
if the picture, or statue, spoke the pathetic 
language of a Shakspeare 1 Is it any wonder 
that masterly action, joined with powerful 
elocution, should be irresistible? If poetry, 
music, and statuary, is good, is not oratory 
more excellent ] for in that we have them all. 
Woe for those, who trample o'er a mind! 
A deathless thing. They know not what they do, 
Or what they deal with ! Man, perchance, may 
The flow'r his step hath bruis'd; or light anew[bind 
The torch he quenches ; or to music — wind 
Again the tyre-string from his touch that flew ; 
But, for the soul ! — oh ! tremble, and beware,— 
To lay rude hands— upon God's mysteries there! 

561. The Written Page can but ill ex- 
press the nicer shades of sentiment, passion, 
and emotion which the poet has painted. 
There are depths of thought, which the eye 
cannot penetrate — and sublimities of flight, 
which it cannot reach. The loveliest and 
sublimest of written poetry — even that con- 
tained in sacred scripture — cannot speak to 
the eye with that vivid power and intensity of 
expression, drawn from it by the human voice, 
when trained to the capacity given to it, by 
the Creator. Hence, the ordained efficiency 
of preaching ,- hence, the trembling of Felix, 
as the great Apostle reasoned — " of Hghteous- 
ness, temperance, and judgment to come." 
So, with the production of the most consum- 
mate human genius : 

For ill — can poetry express, 

Full many a tone— of thought sublime ; 
And sculpture, mute and motionless, 

Steals but out glance from time. 
But, by the mighty actor's power, 

Their wedded triumphs come : 
Verse — ceases — to be airy thought. 

And sculpture — to be dumb. 

562. The following — is an example of the 
sublime, falling far short of a hyperbole; for, 
as St. John observe?, " even the world it- 
self — could not contain the books, that should 
be wTitten" on the subject of infinite loye 
and infinite wisdom — displayed in man's 
redemption and salvation. 

Could we, with ink, the ocean fill, 

Were the whole earth — a parchment — made, 
Were every single stick— a quill, 

And svery man — a scribe by trade; 
To write the love of God — to man, 

Would drain the ocean dry: 
Nor would the scroll— contain the plan, 

Tho' stretched— from sky to sky. 

The mind — untaught, 
Is a dark was'.e, where fiends and tempests bowl ; 
as Phabus — to flu world, is science— to the y,ul. 



Anecdote. Nc hero was more distin- 
guished in ancient times, than Alexander th* 
Great, king of Macedon. His courage wa* 
undaunti <L his ambition bound less,h\s friend- 
ship ardent, his taste refined ,- and what was 
very extraordinary, he seems to have con- 
versed with the same fire and spirit, with 
which he fought. Philip, his father, knowing 
him to be very swift, wished him to run foi 
the prize, at the Olympic games. " I would 
comply with your request," said Alexander, 
" if kings were to be my competitors." 

The ocean— when it rolls aloud— 

The tempest — bursting from her cloud, 
In one uninterrupted peal! 

When darknip sits amid the sky; 

And shadowy forms go trooping by ; 
And everlasting mountains reel — 

All — all of this is Freedom's song — 
'Tis pealed— 'tis pealed eternally ! 

And all, that winds and waves prolong, 
Are anthems rolled to Liberty ! 

Varieties. 1. Although the truth can ne- 
ver come to condemn, but to save, the worlff 
has ever pronounced its condemnation. 2. 
Garbled extracts from any work, are no more 
a correct representation of the work, than 
stone, mortar, boards, glass, and nails, are a 
fair specimen of a splendid palace. 3. Never 
let private interest, poverty, disgrace, danger, 
or death, deter you — from asserting the liber- 
ty of your country, or from transmitting to 
posterity, the sacred rights to which you 
were born. 4. What are the pleasures or the 
bodily senses, without the pleasures of the 
soul? 5. Themistocles, when asked to play 
the lute, replied, I cannot play the fiddle, but 
I can make a little village a great city. 6. 
The skin — co-operates with the lungs in pu- 
rifying the blood. 7. How shall we know 
that the American government, is founded 
on the true principles of human nature ? By 
learning what the true principles of human 
nature are and an extensive induction of facts, 
derived from the study of history, and our 
own observation. 

Yet, though my dust— in earth be laid, 
My life — on earth — withdrawn ; 

'Twill be — but as a fleeting shade 
Of night — before the dawn! 

For I shall spring— beyond the tomb, 
To new — immortal prime, 

Where all is light, and life, and bloom ; 
And no more winter-lime. 
I had a frienfl, that lov'd me : 
I was his soul: he liv'd not, but in ■*,*: 
We were so close within each other's breast, 
The rivets were not found, that join' d us first, 
That does not reach us yet .- we we re so miz'd. 
As meeting streams ; both to ourselves were loH 
We were one mass ; we could not give, or taka, 
But from the same: for he was /; I, he: 
Return, my better half, and give me all my*«f/, 
For thou art all ! 

If I have any joy when thou art absent, 
I grudge it to myself: methinks I rob 
Thee — of thy part. 

Stillest streams 
Oft water fairest meadows ; and the bird. 
That flutters least, is longest on the wing 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTIOJN. 



231 



563. Gesture, or a just and elegant ad- 
aptation of every part of the body to the sub- 
ject, is an essential part of oratory ; and its 
power is muck greater than that of words : 
for it is the language of nature, and makes its 
way to the heart, without the utterance of a 
6ingle word: it affects the eye, (which is the 
quickest of all our senses.) and of course, con- 
veys impressions more speedily to the mind, 
than that of the voice, which affects the ear 
only. Nature, having given to every senti- 
ment and feeling its proper outward expres- 
sion, what we often mean, does not depend 
go much on our words, as on our manner of 
epeaking them. Art — only adds ease and 
gracefulness, to what nature and reason dic- 
tate. Study the Gesture Engravings thor- 
oughly. 

All natural objects have 
An echo in the heart. This flesh doth thrill, 
And has connection, by some unseen chain, 
With/its original source and kindred substanoe : 
The mighty forest, the proud tides of ocean, 
Sky-cleaving hills, and in the vast air, 
The starry constellations ; and the sun, 
Parent of life exhaustless— these maintain 
With the mysterious mind and breathing mould, 
A coexistence and community. 




MADNESS AND TERROR. 

Stretch of Thought. A fellow-student, 
in consequence of too close application to 
study, and neglect of proper diet and exercise, 
became partially deranged; but being very 
harmless, it was thought best that he should 
go and come when, and where he pleased; 
va hope of facilitating his restoration. One 
Saturday afternoon, he went out through the 
gardens and fields, and gathered every variety 
of flowers, from the modest violet to the gaudy 
sunflower, — with which he adorned himself 
from head to foot, in the most fantastical 
manner ; in which condition he was display- 
ing his imaginary kingly power, on a hillock 
in the college green, just as the president and 
one of the professors were going up to attend 
chapel prayers ; when the former ooserved to 
the latter-what a great pity that such a noble 
mind should be thus in ruins! the maniac 
hearing what he said, rose majestically upon 
his throne, and with a most piercing look and 
voice, exclaimed ; " What is that you say, old 
president! you presume to talk thus about 
me? Solomon, in all his glory, was not ar- 
rayed as 1 am. You old sinner, come here ,• 
tnd I will tear you limb from limb, — and 
scatter you through infinite space; where 
Omniscience cannot find you, nor Omnipo- 
tence put yo/^ together again. 



A Great Mistake. The so»\s of ths rich to 

often die poor — and the sons of the poor so often 
die rich, that it has grown into a. proverb; and yet, 
how many parents are laboring and toiling to ac- 
cumulate loealth for their children, and, at the 
same time, raising them up in habits of indolenet 
and extravagance. Their sons will scatter their 
property much sooner than they can gather it to- 
gether. Let them have their heads well stored with 
useful knowledge, and their hearts with sound and 
virtuous principles, and they will ordinarily ',ak« 
care of themselves. However affluent may be hi*, 
circumstances, yet every parent inflicts upon hi a 
son a lasting injury, who does not train him up ta 
habits of virtue, industry and economy. 

Anecdote. Francis I., king of France, 
{opponent and rival of Charles V., of Ger- 
many,) consulting with his generals, how to 
lead his army over the Alps into Italy, his 
fool, Amarel, sprung from a corner, and ad- 
vised him to consult how to bring them back 
again. 

A child is born. Now take the germ, and make X 
i A bud of moral beauty . Let the dews 
Of knowledge., and the light of virtue, wake it 

In richest fragrance, and in purest hues ; 
When passion's gust, and sorrow's tempest shake it, 

The shelter of affection — ne'er refuse, 
For soon, the gathering hand of death will break .t 

From its weak stem of life, — and it shall lose 
All power to charm; but, if that lonely flowei 

Hath swell'd one pleasure, or subdued one pain, 

O, who shall say, that it has lived in vain, 
However fugitive — its breathing hour ? 

For virtue — leaves its sweets wherever tasted, 

And scattered truth is never, never wasted. 

Varieties. I. All those, who have pre- 
sented themselves at the door of the world, 
with a great truth, have been received with 
stones, or hisses. 2. Who has not observed 
the changed, and changing condition of the 
human race! 3. We are indebted to tho 
monastic institutions for the preservation of 
ancient libraries. 4. No good can bring 
pleasure, unless it be that, for the loss of 
which we are prepared. 5. They, who sac- 
rifice at the altar of Apollo, are like those, 
who drink of the waters of Claros ,- they re- 
ceive the gift of divination, they imbibe the 
seeds of death. 6. The same misconduct 
which we pardon in ourselves, we condemn 
in others ,• because we associate a palliation 
with the one, which we cannot perceive in 
the other. 7. What constitutes true mar* 
riage? 

Sheba — was never 
More cautious of wisdom, and fair virtue, 
Than this pure soul shall be ; 
Troth — shall muse her, 
Holy and heavenly thoughts— still counsel her. 
Can you raise the dead! 
Pursue, and overtake — the waves of time ? 
Bring back again— the hours, the days, 
The months, the years, that made me happy? 
The heart has tendrils — like the vine, 
Which round another's bosom twine, 
Outspringing from the living tree — 
Of deeply-p] anted sympathy; 
Where flowers- are hope, its fruits — are bliss, 
Beneficence— its harvest is. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



564, Vehemence of Action. Cicero — 
very judiciously observes, that a speaker 
uust rem it, occasionally, the vehemence of 
his ad ions, and not utter every passage with 
all tlie force, of which he is capable ; so as to 
set off, more strongly, the emphatical parts ; 
as painters make their figures stand out bold- 
er, Dy means of light and shades: there are 
always strong points, as they may be called, 
in every well written piece, which must al- 
ways be attended to, — thus hill and dale, 
mountain and precipice, cataract and gulph : 
always keep some resources, and never ut- 
ter the weaker with all your energy ; for if 
you do, there will be a failing in the strong 
points — the most pathetic parts. 
In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man, 
As modest stillness, and humility : 
But, when the blast of war blows in our ears, 
Then, imitate the action of the tiger; 
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood. 
Disguise fair nature with hard-fa vor'd rage; 
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; 
Let it pry through the portage of the head, 
Like the brass cannon ; let the brow o'erwhelm it, 
As fearfully, as doth a galled rock 
O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, 
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. 
Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide ; 
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit 
To his full height! — On, on! you noblest English. 

465. The Forehead. To what specta- 
tor can the forehead appear uninteresting 1 
Here, appear light and gloom; joy and 

ANXIETY, STUPIDITY, IGNORANCE, and VICE. 

On this brazen tablet are engraved many com- 
binations of sense and of soul. Here, all 
the graces revel, and all the Cyclops thun- 
der. Nature has left it bare, that by it, the 
countenance may be enlightened and 
darkened. At its lowest extremities, 
thoughts — appear changed into acts ; the 
mind here collects the powers of resist- 
ance; and here headlong obstinacy, or 
wise perseverance take up their fixed 
abode. 

That brow, which was, to me, 
A blooming heaven (it was a heaven, for there 
Shone forth twin stars of excellence, so brightly, 
As though the winds of paradise had fann'd 
Their orbed lustre, till they bearn'd with love ;) 
That brow — was as the sleep-imprison'd lake, 
Treasuring the beauty — of the deep blue skies, 
Whose charm 'd slumber, one small breath will ruffle. 

Anecdote. A commonwealth' 1 s man, in 
England, on his way to the scaffold, for 
truth's sake, saw his wife, looking at him 
from the tower window, and standing up in 
the cart he waved his hat, and cried, " To 
heaven, my love, to heaven, and I leave 
you in the storm awhile." 

Well might Lord Herbert write his love — 
Were not our souls — immortal made, 
Our equal love — would make them such. 
Tif» sweet to know, — there is an eye — will mark, 
fSnit coming, and look brighter, — when we come. 
O, colder — than the wind, that freezes 
Founts, that but now — in sunshine played, 
/• that congealing pang, which seizes 
fhe bursting bosom, when betrayed. 



Three Modes of Forming Theories* 
One — to imagine them, and then search for facts 
to sustain, prove and confirm them ; one — to col- 
lect facts, which are only effects, and out of them 
to form theories; and one — to observe till these 
facts, and look through them to their causes ; which 
causes constitute the only true theories: ihen, all 
known or probable effects, will not only confirm 
such theories, but they can be explained by these 
theories. Hence, the true theories of all things, 
will explain and demonstrate all things, so far at 
they can be seen and understood; i. e. rationally 
perceived, according to the state and capacity of th« 
human mind. That which enables one to explain a 
thing, analytically and synthetically, is the true 
cause, or theory of that thing ; thus, true theories 
are the causes of things, and facts are the legiti- 
mate effects of those things. The Ends of Things. 
There is one step higher, which must be taken, 
and then we shall have all, that the human mind 
can conceive of, or think about; which is the end 
of things : thus we have ends, causes, and effects ; 
beyond which sphere, man cannot go ; for every 
thing, object or subject, concerning which we caa 
feel, think or act, is either an end, a cause, or aa 
effect; the latter only, are accessible to our senses ' 
the other must be seen intellectually : i. e. in a re* 
gion of mind above our senses. 

Varieties. 1. Can what is incomprehen- 
sible, be an object of thought ? 2. Humani- 
ty, justice, and patriotism — are qualities — of 
universal benefit to mankind. 3. The only 
way to expel what is false from the mind, is 
to receive the opposite truth. 4. Faith — is 
saving, when we learn truths from the Bible, 
and live according to them. 5. A man ia 
said to be square, when he does not, from in- 
justice, incline to this or that party. 6 The 
power of the muscles, is derived through the 
nerves, as the power of good is from truth, 
7. Nothing remains with us, that is not re- 
ceived in freedom. 

Look nature through ; 'tis revolution all : [ night 

All change; no death. Day — follows night, tmi 

The dying day ; stars rise, and set, and rise; 

Earth — takes the example. See, the Summer, gay 

With her green chaplet — and ambrosial flowers, 

Droops into pallid Autumn : Winter, gray, 

Horrid with frost, and turbulent with storm, 

Blows Autumn, and his golden fruits, away ;— 

Then, melts into the Spring. Soft Spring, with 

Favonian, from warm chamb'rsof ihe south, [breatb 

Recalls the first. All, to re-flourish,/od«/ 

As in a wheel, all sinks to re-ascend — 

Emblems of man, who passes, not expires. 

Say, dear, will you not have me ? 

Then take the kiss— you gave me ; 

You elsewhere would, perhaps, hestow it, 

And I would be as loath — to owe it ; 

Or, if you will not take the thing — once given, 

Let me — kiss you, and then, we shall d». wtn 

And then, alone, would Ila mourn ; 
And count the hours, till his return, 
For when — did woman's love expire, 
If fondly fanned— the holy fire? 
He, that doth public good—for multitudss, 
Finds few — are truly gratettu. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



233 




566. Ds- 

MOSTU S N'ES, 

the most emi- 
nent of Grecian 

orators, was 

born 385 years 

before the 

christian era, 

and died by 

poison, self -a.d- 

ministered, to 

escape the 

vengeance o f 

AnUpater, 322 

B.C. He was 

celebrated o n 

account of the 
Ji r e, strength, 

and vehemence 

of his elo- 
quence, which 

was excited in 

rousing the 

Athenians t o 

war with the Macedonians, and in defeating hrs 
rivals, who were bribed by the latter. The char- 
acteristics of his oratory were, strength, sublimity, 
piercing energy and force, aided by an emphatic, 
and vehement "elocution; he sometimes, however, 
degenerated into severity. In reading his orations, 
we do not meet with any sentiments that are very 
exalted ; they are generally bounded by self-love 
and a love of the world. His father died when he 
was seven years old ; and his guardians having 
wasted his property, at the age of seventeen, he 
appeared against them at the court, and plead his 
own cause successfully; which encouraged him to 
speak before the assembly of the people; but he 
made a perfect failure: after which, he retired, 
stud; :d and practiced in secret, until he was twen- 
ty-/?'^, when he came forward again, and cora- 
W*-aced his brilliant career. 

Kn hrrust statesman — to a. prince — is like 
# vector, planted by a spring, which bathes ife 
ged: the grateful tree— rewards it— with the shadote. 
jSy tedious toil, — no passion is expressed : 
His hand, who feels the strongest, paints the best. 

567. Marcus 
Tullius Cicero, 
the most distin- 
guished of the 
Roman orators, 
was born 106 
years before the 
Dirth of Christ; 
and died at the 
age of 03. He 
made the Greeks 
his model; an^ ; 
as an orator, he 
possessed the 
» t r e n g t h of Be- 
*nos-the-nes, the 
topiousnessot' 
Plato, and the su- 
avity of I-soc-ra- 

ts. His first 

-vielier was the 
poet Ar-chi-as ; 

and in elocution he was taught by A-pol-Zo-ni-us 
Molo of Rhodes; after which he visited Athens, and 
on his return was made quaestor, and then consul; 
when he rendered the greatest service to the state, 
by the suppression of the conspiracy of Catiline; 
he was af erwards banished, and voluntarily re- 
tired to Gi icee, but was soon honorably recalled ; 
after whicl , he undertook the prcetorship of Cilicia. 
In the ciyil wars of Caesar and Pompey, he adher- 
ed to the party of the latter; and after the battle of 
Pharsalia, was reconciled to Caesar, but was soon 
Blain by Pompilius : at the instigation of Mare An- 
imy. 

ao u2 




568. Eve. Are not g,ood sense, and good Au- 
mor of more advantage than beauty? When Adam 
is introduced by Milton, describing Eve, in para- 
dise, and relating to the angel, the impressions he 
felt on seeing her, at her first creation, he does not 
represent her — like a Grecian Venus, by her shape, 
or features, but by the lustre of her mind, which 
shone in them; and gave them their power of 
charming : 

Grace— was in all her steps, heaven— iu rst eyi, 
In every gesture — dignity, and love. 

Anecdote. A Humane Driver Rewarded. 
A Macedonian soldier, was one day leading 
before Alexander a. mule laden with gold for 
the king's use ,• and the beast heing so tired, 
that he could not go, or sustain the load, his 
driver took it off, and, with great difficulty, 
carried it himself a considerable way. Alex- 
ander, seeing him just sinking under the 
burden, and about to throw it on the ground, 
cried out, " Do not he weary yet ; try and car- 
ry it through to the tent, for it is all thy own." 

Paint not, heart of man ! though yean wane slow! 
There have been those, that, from the deepest cava, 
And cells of night , and fastnesses, below 
( The stormy dashing of the o<'e<m-waves,— 

Down, farther down — than gold lies hid, have nurs'd 
A quenchless hope, and watch'd their time, and burtt 
On the bright day, like wakenas from the giave. ! 

Varieties. 1. When we g> nil let as 

consider what we have to dr.; ar-u w nen we 
return, what we have done. 2. There are 
many subjects, that are not easily understood; 
but it is easy to misrepresent them ; and when 
arguments cannot be controverted, it is not 
difficult for the uncharitable — to calumniate 
motives. 3. A man's true character is a greater 
secret to himself, than to others ; if he judge 
himself, he is apt to be partial; if he asks the 
opinions of others, he is liable to be deceived. 
4. Really learned persons never think of hav- 
ing finished their education, for they are stu- 
dents during life. 5. The insults of others 
can never make us wretched, or resentful, if 
our hearts are right ; the viper, that stings us, 
is within. 6. Beware of drawing too broad 
and strong conclusions — from feeble and ill- 
defined premises 1. When human policy 
wraps one end of the chain round the ancle or 
a man, divine justice rivets the other end round 
the neck of the tyrant. 8. All who have been 
great, without religion, would undoubtedly 
have been much greater, and better — with it 

QUALITIES — SURPASSING LOVELINESS. 

She had read 
Her father's well-filled library — with prq/il, 
And could talk charmingly. Then she would sing, 
And play, too, passably, — and dance with spirit; 
She sketch'd from nature well, and studied^ourarj^ 
Which was enough, alone, to love her for : 
Yet she was knowing — in all needle-work, — 
And shone — in dairy, — and in kitchen, too, — 
As in the parlor. 

The wise man, said the Bible, walks with God, 
Surveys far on— the endless line of life; 
Values his soul; thinks of eternity ; 
Both worlds consides, and provides for both; 
With reason's eye — his passions guards ; abitfting 
From evil; lives on hove — on hope, the fruit 
Of faith; looks upward ; purifies his soul; 
Expands his wings, and mounts into the sky; 
Passes the sun, and gains his Father's house; 
And drinks — with angels- "rom th< fount of blias. 



234 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



569. Rhetorical Action —respects the atti- 
tude, gesture, and expression ofthe countenance. 
Words cannot represent certain peculiarities ; 
they depend on the actor. Simplicity, or a strict 
adherence to t lie modesty of nature— correct- 
ness — or adaption to the word — and beauty, as 
opposed to awkwardness — are the principal 
marks of good action. Beauty belongs to objects 
cf sight. Action should be easy, natural, varied, 
and directed by passion. Avoid affectation and 
display ; for they disgust. The best artists are 
famous for simplicity, which has an enchanting 
effect. Profuse decorations indicate a wish to 
Bupply the want of genius by multiplying inferi- 
or beauties. There is in every one an indis- 
cribable something, which we call nature, that 
perceives and recognizes the inspirations of na- 
ture ; therefore, after bringing your voice under 
your control, if you enter fully into the spirit of 
the composition, and let your feelings prompt 
and govern your action, you cannot greatly err. 
The victory is half won when you fully feel and 
realize what you read or speak. Resolve to ac- 
quire the power, the witchery, the soul of elocu- 
tion — that lightning of ancient times which pour- 
ed a blaze of light on the darkest understanding, 
and that thunder which awakens the dead. 

Tliey never fail — who die 
In a great cause: the block — may soak their gore : 
Their heads— may sodden in the sun ; their limbs 
Be strung to city gates— and castle walls — 
But still — their spirit walks abroad. Tho' years 
Elapse, and others — share as dark a doom, 
They but augment the deep and swelling thoughts 
Which overpower all others, and conduct 
The world, at last, to Freedom. 

57©. This system teaches you to harmon- 
ize matter and manner, to imbibe the author's 
feelings, to bring before you all the circum- 
stances, and plunge amid the living scenes, 
and feel that what you describe is present, and 
actually passing before you. Speak of truths 
as truths, not as fictions. Give the strongest, 
freest, truest expression of the natural Mend- 
ings of thought and emotion ; break thro' all 
arbitrary restraint, and submit, after proper 
trainings, to the suggestions of reason and 
nature. Let your manner be earnest, col- 
lected, vigorous, self-balanced. In the intro- 
duction, be respectful, modest, conciliatory, 
winning, rather mild and slow; in the dis- 
cussion, clear, energetic ; in the application, 
animated, pathetic, persuasive. 

All — some force obey ! 
Gold — will dissolve, and diamonds — melt away ; 
Marble — obeys the chisel, and the saw ; 
And solar-besom, — a rock of ice will thaw; 
The fiammg forge o'ercomes well-temper'd steel; 
And flinty glass — is fashioned at the wheel : 
liut man's rebellious heart — no power can bend, 
Soflavies can soften, no concussion — rend; 
Till the pure spirit soften, pierce and melt, 
And the warm blood — is in the conscience felt. 

571. Look your hearers in the face — give 
yourself, body and soul, to the subject— let not 
the attention be divided between the manner 
and matter. Practice in private to establish cor- 
rect habits of voice and gesture, and become so 
familiar with all rules as not to think of them 
when exercising. The head, face, eyes, hands, 
and upper part of the body are principally em- 
ployed in oratorical action. The soul speaks 
most intelligibly in the muscles of the face, and 
through the eye, which is the chief seat of ex- 
pression ; let the internal man, and the external 



correspond. An erect att.tude, %nd & firmness 
of position, denote majesty, activity, strength: 
the leaning — affection, respect, earnestness of 
entreaty, dignity of composure, indifference, dis- 
ease. The air of a person expresses a language 
easily understood. The husbandman, dandy, 
gentleman and military chief bespeak the habits 
and qualities of each. The head gently reclined, 
denotes grief, shame ; erect — courage, firmness; 
thrown back or shaken— dissent ; forward — aa 
sent. The hand raised and inverted— repels, 
more elevated and extended — surprise, astonish- 
ment ; placed on the mouth — silence; on the 
head, pain ; on the breast — affection, or appeal to 
conscience ; elevated — defiance ; both raised and 
palms united — supplication ; gently clasped — 
thankfulness ; wrung — agony. 

Anecdote. Tyrolese Songs. In the 
mountains of Tyrol, hundreds of women and 
children — come out, at bed-time, and sing 
their national songs, until they hear their hus- 
bands, fathers, and brothers, answer them 
from the hills on their return home. Upon 
the shore of the Adriatic, the wives of "the 
fishermen come down, about sunset, and 
sing one of their melodies. They sing the 
first verse, and then listen — for sometime: 
then they sing a second ; and so on, till they 
hear the answer from the fishermen, who 
are thus guided to their homes. 
Haii memory, hail ! in thy exhaustless mine, 
From age — to age, unnumbered treasures shine ! 
Thought, and her shadowy brood, thy call obey, 
And place, and time, are subject to thy sway ! 
Thy pleasures most we feel, when most alone, 
The only pleasures we can call our own. 
Lighter than air, Hope's summer visions fly, 
If but a fleeting cloud obscure the sky ; 
If but a beam of sober Reason play, 
Lo ! Fancy's fairy frost-work melts away : 
But, can the wiles of art, the grasp of power, 
Snatch the rich relics of a well-spent hour? 
These, when the trembling spirit takes her flight, 
Pour round her path a stream of living light, 
And gild those pure and perfect realms of rest, 
Where viHTUE—triumphs, and her sons are blest. 

Varieties. 1. Costume, when once regula- 
ted by true science, and art, remains in un- 
changable good taste; comfortable, convenient, 
as well as picturesque and becoming. 2. In 
1756, a white headed old woman — died in 
London, whose hair sold for 244 dollars to a 
ladies' periwig maker. 3. In some countries, 
intellect has sway; in some — wealth,- and 
in others — beauty and rank ,• but the most 
powerful influence in the best societies, is 
goodness combined with truth in practice. 
4. Merit — in the inheritor, alone makes valid 
an inheritance of glory in ancestry. 5. Why- 
does new sweet milk become sour — during a 
thunder storm 1 6. Why can no other na- 
tion make a Chinese gong ? 7. Is not the 
American government rounded upon the true 
principles of human nature ? 8. How prone 
many are, to worship the creature more 
than the Creator ! 9. When apparent truths 
are taken, and confirmed for real ones, they 
become fallacies. 10. Actions — show best 
the nature of the law of life; and deeds— 
show the man. 

In all thy humors, whether grave or mellow, 
Thou'rt such a touchy, testy, pleasant fellow; [thee. 
Hast so much wit, and mirth, and spleen about 
That there's no living withthee, or whhoui thes. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



23a 



573. The emphatic strokes of the hand accom- 
pany emphasis; its elevated termination suits high 
passion; horizontal— decision ; downward move- 
ment — disapprobation. Avoid excess, violence 
and constancy of action ; gentjeness, tranquillity 
and dignity prevail more. What is the appro- 
priate gesture in this? "Light are the outward 
s gns of evil thought ; within, within— 'twas there 
the spirit wrought." Middle finger of the right 
hand points to the body— its fore-finger gently laid 
in the palm of the left, in deliberation, proof, or ar- 
gumentation — sometimes it is pressed hard on the 
ialm. The left hand often acts with great signifi- 
cancy with the right; rarely used alone in the 
principal gestures, except when something on the 
left hand is spoken of, as contradistinguished from 
Eomething on the right, and when two things are 
contrasted. Motion of the hands should corres- 
pond with those of the eyes. Rules say, " Do not 
raise the hands above the head ;" but if natural 
passion prompts them— it will be well done; for 
passion knows more than art. 
Our thoughts are boundless, tho' oxa frames are frail, 
Our souls immortal, though our limbs decay : 
Though darkened— in this poor life, by a vail 
Of suffering, dying matter, we shall play 
In Truth's eternal sunbeams ; on the way 
To Heaven's high capitol — our car shall roll ; 
The temple — of the power, whom all obey; 
That is the mark— we tend to, for the soul 
Can take no lower flight, and seek no meaner goal. 

573. Keep the hands out of your pockets— don't 
finder your watch-key or chain— let your business 
influence you. Feel your subject thoroughly and 
speak without fear : have a style and manner of 
your own. for an index to yourself. Expression 
is the looking out of the soul, through the eyes, 
which are its windows, into the natural world. 
The body should generally be erect : not constant- 
ly changing, nor always motionless — declining in 
humiliation — rising in praise and thanksgiving; 
should accompany motion of the hands, head, and 
eyes ; never turn your back on the audience. Do 
not appear haughty, nor the reverse ; nor recline 
the head to one shoulder— nor stand like a post; 
avoid tossings of the body from side to side, rising 
on lip-ioe, writhing of the shoulders. Study well 
the engravings ; their position, gracefulness and 
awkwardness : some are designated for both — dis- 
criminate, which to imitate, which to avoid — refer 
within, to your own nature, for dictation — and 
never adopt any gesture that you do not make 
your own by appropriation. All gestures must 
originate within. Let everything you do and say 
correspond. 

The Muse of inspiration — plays 
O'er every scene ; she walks the/oresZ-maze, 
And climbs the mountain; every blooming spot 
Burns with her step, yet man — regards it not! 
She wnispers round ; her words are in the air, 
JSttt .ozt, unheard, they linger— freezing there, 
Without one breath of soul, divinely strong, 
One ray of heart — to thaw them into song. 

5 74r. Some of the sources of faults in action, are 
unmanly diffidence, which makes one appalled at 
nis audience, or makes him fear to stir, lest he 
make a mistake ; and servile imitation — whence is 
a want of action, excess or awkwardness, or un- 
due regard to improper models. Do not become 
an artificial, made-up character, a compound of 
affectation and imitation, a poor creature of bor- 
rowed shreds and patches: preserve your own 
identity. 

Of tho6e few fools who with ill stars are curst, 
Sure scribbling fools, call'd poets, fare the worst: 
For they're a set of fools which Fortune makes, 
^Kd after she has made them fools, forsakes. 



In man or woman, but far most in raan ; 
And most of all— in man that ministers 
And serves the altar, in my soul— I loathe 
All affectation. Tis my perfect scorn ; 
Object — of my implacable disgust. 
What ! — will a man play tricks, will he indulge 
A silly— fond conceit — of his fair form 
And just proportion, fashionable mien, 
And pretty/ace, in presence of his God? 
Or, will he seek to dazzle me with tropts, 
As with the diamond on his lily hand, 
And play his brilliant parts before my eyes 
When I am hungry for the bread of lifb? 
He mocks his Maker, prostitutes and shame* 
His noble office, and, instead of truth, 
Displaying his own beauty, starves his flock. 
Therefore, avaunt all attitude and stare, 
And start theatric, practic'd at the glass.' 
. seek divine simplicity— in him, 
Who handles things divine ; and all — besides, 
Tho' learn'd with labor, and tho' much admit'd 
By curious eyes, and Judgments ill-inform'd, 
To me is odious — as the nasal twang 
Heard at conventicle, where worthy men, 
Misled by custom, strain celestial themes 
Through the press'd nostril, spectaele-bestrid. 
Anecdote. Indian Virtue. A married 
woman, of the Shawanee Indians, made this 
beautiful reply — to a man whom she met in 
the woods, and who implored her to love and 
look on him. " Oulman, my husband," said 
she, " who is forever before my eyes, hinders 
me from seeing you, or any other person." 
So dear to Heaven — is saintly chastity, 
That when a soul — is found sincerely so, 
A thousand liveried angels — lackey her, 
Driving/ar off— each thing of sin, and guilt • 
And, in clear dream, and solemn vision, 
Tell her of things, that no gross ear can hear, 
Till oft converse — with heavenly habitants 
Begins to cast a beam — on the outwanl shape, 
The unpolluted temple of the mind, 
And turns it, by degrees, to the soul's essence, 
Till all — be made immortal! 
Varieties. 1. Children learn but little 
from what they read, while the attention is 
divided between the sense and making out 
the words. 2. Few parents and teachers are 
aware of the pre-eminent importance of oral 
over book instruction. 3. Truths, inculcated 
without any sense of delight, are like seeds, 
whose living germ has been destroyed ; and 
which, therefore, when sown, can never come 
to anything. 4. The idea of the Lord, com 
ing into the world, to instruct us, and make 
us good, is an idea particularly delightful to 
young children, as well as to those of riper 
years. 5. We were not created — to live on 
the earth, one moment in vain ; every moment 
has a commission, connected with eternity ; 
and each minute, improved, gives power to 
the next minute, to proceed with an acceler* 
ated ratio and impulse. 
Let talkers talk; stick thou to what is best, 
To think of pleasing all, is all a jest. 

Let conquerors — boast 
Their fields of fame: he, who in virtue, arms 
A young, warm spirit— against beauty's chanrs, 
Who feels her brightness, yet defies her thrall, 
Is the best, bravest conqueror of them all. 



236 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



575. Stability of position, facility of change, 
and general grace of action, depend on the right 
use of the feet ; [see the engravings of them,] the 
motions of children are graceful, because prompt- 
ed by nature : see how the different passions af- 
fect their countenances ; what a pity they are not 
kept on in this way, without being led by their 
teachers into captivity to bad habits. Keep your 
mind collected and composed; guard against 
bashfulness, which will wear off by opposition. 
One generally has confidence in doing any tiling 
with whose manner he is familiar. Assurance 
isenained by— 1, entirely mastering your subject, 
and a consciousness that what you have to deliv- 
er is worth hearing — 2, by wholly engaging in it, 
mind intent on it, and heart warmed with it: nev- 
er be influenced by approbation or disapproba- 
tion; master yourself; but how can you unless 
you know yourself? 

Think'st thou— there are no serpents in the world, 
But those, which slide along the grassy sod, 
And sting the luckless/ooJ, that presses them? 
There are, who, in the path of social life, 
Do bask their spotted skins — in Fortune's sun, 
And sting the soul — ay, till its heallhfulframe 
Is chang'd to secret.festering, sore disease — 
So deadly — is the wound. 

576. Look at the limbs of a willow tree, gently 
and variously waving before the breeze, cutting 
curved lines, which are lines of beauty; and cul- 
tivate a graceful, easy, flowing and forcible ges- 
ticulation. Adapt your action, as well as vocal 
powers, to the occasion and circumstances — the 
action to the word, and the word to the action. A 
young speaker may be more various than an old 
one. Do not act words instead of ideas ; i. e. not 
make gestures to correspond, when you speak of 
anything small, low, up, large, &e. Let the voice, 
countenance, mien, and gesture, conspire to drive 
home to the judgment and heart, your impassion- 
ed appeals, cogent arguments, strong conclusions, 
and deep convictions. Let Nature, guided by 
*cience, be your oracle, and the voice of unso- 
phistocated feeling your monitor. Fill your soul 
with the mighty purpose of becoming an orator, 
and turn aside from no labor, shrink from no ef- 
fort, that are essential to the enterprise. Self- 
made men are the glory of the world. 

Man — is a harp, whose chords elude the sight ; 
Each yielding harmony, disposed aright: 
The screws reversed, 

Ten thonsand thousand strings at once go loose, — 
Lost, till he tune them, all their power and use. 
I have read the instructed volume, 
Of human nature; there, long since, have learned, 
The way — to conquer men — is by their possions : 
Catch — but the ruling foible of their hearts, 
And all their boasted virtues — shrink — before you. 

577. EnucATiox — is a companion, winch 
no misfortune can suppress, no clime des- 
troy — no enemy alienate — no despotism en- 
slave. At home — a friend, abroad — an in- 
troduction ; in solitude a solace, in society, 
an ornament. It lessens vice, it guards vir- 
tue ; it gives, at once, a grace and govern- 
ment to genius. Without it, what is man ? 
a splendid slave ! a reasoning savage ! va- 
cillating, between the dignity of an intelli- 
gence derived from God, and the degradation 
vt brutal passion. 

It is a note 
Of upstart greatness — to observe and watch 
For those poor iriflts, which the noble mind — 
Neglects, and scorns. 



Anecdote. Someic Iterc. One gentleman 

riding in a stage-coach, with another, ob- 
served to him, — " Sir, I think, I have seen 
you somewhere." " I presume you have, Sir," 
replied the other ; " lor I have been there ve- 
ry often" 
Brute force — may crush the heart, but cannot kill ; 

The mind, that thinks, no terrors can compel ; 
But it will speak at length, and boldly tell 

The world its weakness, and its rights; the r.ight 
Our race so long has frop'd through, since man fell 

From his imagin'd Eden of delight, 
Must, will, ere long, retire from TrutlCs fast dawi*> 
ing light. 

Varieties. 1. Mind may act on mind, 
though bodies be far divided. 2. A hold man, 
or a fool must be he, who would chango his 
lot with another. 3. A wise man. — scorneth 
nothing, be it ever so small or homely. 4. 
Mind — is a perpetual motion; for it is a run- 
ning stream, from an unfathomable source, 
tire depth of the divine intelligence. 5. 
Nature — is the chart of God, mapping out 
all his attributes ; Art — the shadow of his 
wisdom, and copieth his resources. 6. In a 
dream, thou rnayest live a lifetime, and all 
be forgotten in the morning. 7. A letter 
timely writ, is a rivet to the chain of affec- 
tion. 8. As frost to the bud, and blight to 
the blossom, even such is se(/*-intcrest to 
friendship. 9. Confidence — cannot dwell 
where selfishness is porter at the gate. 10. 
Those hours are not lost, that are spent in 
cementing affection. 1 1 . Character — is main- 
ly modeled, by the cast of the minds that sur- 
round it. 12. The company a man choos 
eth, is a visible index of his heart. 

A drainless shower 
Of light — is poesy; 'tis the supreme of power ; 
Tis might — slumbering on its own right arm. 
A generous mind, though swayed awhile by passion, 
Is like the steely vigor of the bow, 
Still holds its native rectitude, and bends 
But to recoil move, forceful. 

Great minds, like Heaven, are pleased in doing 
Though th' ungrateful subjects of their/arors [good, 
Are barren in return. 

Cowards — are scar'd with threafnings ; boys are 
Into confessions; but a steady mind [whipp'd 

Acts of itself, — ne'er asks the body counsel. 
The mind — is full 
Of curious changes, that perplex itself, 
Just like the visible vjorld ; and the heart— ebbs 
Like the great sea; first flows, and then retires, 
And on the passions doth the spirit ride, 
Through sunshine — and in rain, from good — to u\ 
Then to deep vice, and so on — back to virtue; 
Till, in the grave, that universal calm, 
We sleep— the sleep of deaVi. 
Virtue, while 't is free from blame, 
Is modest, lowly, meek, and unassuming; 
Not apt, like fearful vice, to shield its weakness 
Beneath the studied pomp of boastful phrase, 
Which swells, to hide the poverty it shelters ; 
But, when this virtue— feels itself suspected, 
Insulted, set at nought, its whiteness stain'd. 
It then grows proud, forgets its humble worth, 
And rates itself— above its real value. 

A brain of feathers, and a heart of lead. 



PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



231 



578. Suggestions. The author is aware, 
from experience, that there are many things 
tending to discourage a new beginner in de- 
clamation; one is, a consciousness of his 
own awkwardness; which teaches us the 
importance of knowing how to do a thing, 
before attempting it in the presence of others. 
Let him select a short, and ordinary piece, 
first, and commit it perfectly to memory, and 
be sure that he understands every word of the 
author. Never appear in an improper dress ; 
let your clothing be clean and neat, and pro- 
perly adjusted to the body ; neither too loose, 
nor too tight. Never be influenced, one way 
or another, by what your companions may 
say, or do ; be your own master, and feel de- 
termined to succeed ; at the same time, you 
may be as modest and unassuming as you 
please, the more, so the better : let your sub- 
ject and object be to you all in all. 

Applause — 
Waits on success : the fickle multitude, 
Like the light straw, that floats along the stream, 
Glide with the current still, and follow fortune. 
Men judge actions — always by events : , 

But, when we manage, by a )ustforsesight, 
Success — is prudence, and possession — right. 

579. Our Book. In this abridged outline 
of the Principles of Elocution, the author has 
endeavored to appreciate the age and state 
of those, who will be likely to read, or study 
the work ; for it is designed for both purposes ; 
and if the reader, or student, shall experience 
a tithe of the pleasure in rightly using it, as 
the author has in writing it, his aspirations 
will be fully realized. The .more these sub- 
jects are examined, and their principles ap- 
plied to practice, the more will it be seen and 
felt, that no one can become a good elocu- 
tionist, unless he studies body and mind, 
matter and spirit ; and makes the results 
his own, by actual appropriation; science 
and art, theory and practice, must go hand 
in hand, to develop and perfect us for earth 

or HEAVEN. 

If you did know — to whom I gave the ring, 

If you did know— -for whom I gave the ring, 

And would conceive for what I gave the ring, 

And how unwillingly — I left the ring, 

When nought would be accepted — but the ring, 

You would abate the strength of your displeasure. 

As travelers — oft look bach, at eve, 

When eastward — darkly going, 
To gaze— upon that light — they leave, 

Still faint behind them — glowing, — 
So, when the close of pleasure's day — 

T'o gloom hath near consigned us, 
We turn — to catch one fading ray 

Of joy, that's left behind us. 

Miscellaneous. 1. A loise man — is wil- 
ling to profit by the errors of others; because 
he does not, under the impulse of pride, con- 
demn and d-espise them ; but, while his Judg- 
ment — disapproves, his heart — pities them. 
2. It is the constant tendency of man, when 
in a perverted state of the will, and according 
■o the state of such perversion, to make the 
reason, or understanding, everything, and to 
pay little or no attention to the state of the 
affections; and also to regulate Ms actions 
more by external, than internal considera- 
tions; Mis state and tendency is the cause 



of the prevalence of the pride of science in 
the literary world. 3. Th<? true christian has 
no confidence in mere feelings, or in that 
sort of good, which, being without truth, its 
appointed guide and protector, is transient 
and inoperative. 

Anecdote. A Wise Decision. Eliza Am* 
bert, a young Parisian lady, resolutely dis- 
carded a gentlman, to whom she was to hav» 
been married, because he ridiculed religion. 
Having given him a gentle reproof, he replied, 
" that a man of the world could not be so old* 
fashioned, as to regard God and religion'' 1 
Eliza started ; but, on recovering herself, said, 
" From this moment, sir, when I discover that 
you do not regard religion, I cease to be 
yours. He, who does not love and honor 
God, can never love his wife, constantly and 
sincerely." 

Yes, love indeed is light from Heaves.; 
A spark of that immortal fire 

With angels shared, by Alia given, 
To lift from earth our low desire 

Devotion wafts the mind above, 

But Heaven itself descends in love ; 

A feeling from the Godhead caught, 

To wean from self each sordid thought ; 

A ray of him who form'd the whole ; 

A glory circling round the soul ! 
Varieties. 1. Neglect not time present; 
despair not of time past; never despair. 2 
Infamy — is where it is received. If thou art 
a mud wall, it will stick, — if marble, it will 
rebound. If thou storm at it, it is thine ; if 
thou contemn it, — it is gone. 3. Ridicule 
seems to dishonor, worse than dishonor itself. 
4. It is heaven, on earth, to have the mind 
move in charity, rest in Providence, and turn 
on the truth. 5. A long life may be passed 
without finding a friend, in whose under- 
standing and virtue, we can equally confide, 
and whose opinion we can value at once for 
its Justice and sincerity. 6. A vjeak man, 
however honest, is not qualified to Judge. 7. 
A man of the world, however penetrating, is 
not fit to counsel. 8. What is the great, es- 
sential evil of intemperance ? The voluntary 
extinction of reason. 9. What breaks the 
heart of the drunkard's wife ? It is not, that 
he is poor ; but, that he is a drunkard, 10. 
How shall we arrest, how suppress this great 
evill To rescue men, we must act on them 
inwardly, and outwardly ; by giving streng th 
within, to withstand the temptation, and re 
move the temptation without. 
Thou sun, (said I,) fair light! 
And thou enlightened earth, so fresh, and gay ; 
Y e hills, and dales, ye rivers, woods and plains, 
And ye, that live and move, fair creatures, tell, 
Tell — if you know, how came I thus; how here? 
Flowers — are the alphabet of angels, whereby 
They write on hills, and fields, mysterious truths. 
Riches, like insects, when concealed, they lie, 
Wait but for their wings, and in their season, fly. 
N. B. The latter part of the work it much abridged, and |*w 
tioM of the original matter omitted, to make more room for tba 
Readings and Recitations, and still keep the book, within what 
are deemed proper limits: this will rationally account for H» in- 
coherency, as well as brevity.— One more tail word to the pupil 
FEEL RIGHT — THINK RIGHT, AND ACT RIGHT, AND 
YOU SHALL BECOME ALL THAT YOU ARE CAPABLI 
OF, AND ALL THAT YOU CAN DESIRE. 



238 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



Notes. In these exercises, thi re is a continual recurrence 
•f the preceding; principles, and ail designed for thinkers and 
toorkert. As there are no such things as TIME and SPACE be- 
longing to the mind, the nearer we approach to their annihilation, 
Ihe more readily can we memorize : for which reason small 
type are used ; and also variety, for the purpose of assisting in the 
preservation of the sight, and maintaining our independence of 
•p«ctacles : in consideration of which, it should be observed, that 
uooks must be read, by varying their distances from the eyes; 
sometimes quite near, at others farther off: also practice the sight 
in looking at surrounding objects, in their proper positions from 
tuarcst to farthest. 

580. Immortality of the Soul. 
Among various excellent arguments — for the 
immortality of the soul, there is one drawn 
from the perpetual progress of the soul to its 
perfection, withou ; a possibility of ever arri- 
ving at it. 

How can it enter into the thoughts of man, 
that the soul, which is capable of such im- 
mense perfections, and of receiving new im- 
provements to all eternity, shall fall away into 
nothing, almost as soon as it is created 1 Are 
such abilities made for no purpose 1 A brute 
arrives at a point of perfection that lie can 
never pass : in a few years, he has all the en- 
dowments he is capable of; and. were he to 
live ten thousand more, would be the same 
thing he is at present. 

Man does not seem born to enjoy life, but 
to deliver it down to others. This is not sur- 

Jyrising to consider in animals, which are 
brmed for our use, and can finish their busi- 
ness in a short life. The silk-worm, after hav- 
ing spun her task, lays her eggs, and dies. 
But a man — can never have taken in his full 
measure of knowledge, has not time to sub- 
due his passions, establish his soul in virtue, 
and come up to the perfection of his nature, 
before he is hurried off the stage. 

Would an infinitely wise Being — make 
such glorious creatures for so mean a pur- 
pose 1 Can he delight in the production of 
such abortive intelligences, such short-lived 
reasonable beings 1 Would he give us tal- 
ents, that are not to be exerted'.' capacities 
that are never to be gratified 1 

How can we find that wisdom, which shines 
through all his works, in the formation of 
man, without looking on this world as only a 
nursery for the next, and believing, that the 
several generations of rational creatures, 
which rise up and disappear, in such quick 
sucoessions, are only to receive their first ru- 
diments of existence here, and afterwards, to 
be transplanted into a more friendly climate, 
where they may spread, and flourish — to all 
eternity '.' — Addison. 

VIRTUOUS FRIENDSHIP. 

Is aught so fair, 
In all the dewy landscapes of the spring, 
In the bright eye of Hesper, or the morn ; 
In nature's fairest forms,— is aught so fair 
As virtuous friendship? as the candid blush 
Of him who strives with fortune to be just? 
The graceful tear, that streams far others' woes ? 
Or the mild majesty of private life, 
Where peace, with ever-blooming olive, crowns 
The gate ? where honor's liberal hands effuse 
Unenvied treasures, and the snowy wings 
Of innocence and love, protect the scene? 
That^-l spent, — that — I had; 
That~-\ gave, — Uuit~\ have; 
■ That-A le/t,—thatr-l lo$t 



5SI. Fancied Infallibility. Whci 

man has looked about him, as far as ho can, 
he concludes there is no more to be seen; 
when he is at the end of his line, he is at 
the bottom of the ocean ; when he has shot 
his best, he is sure none ever did, nor ever 
can shoot better, or beyond it; his own rea- 
son is the certain measure of truth ; his own 
knowledge, of what is possible in nature; 
though his mind and his thoughts, change 
every seven years, as well as his strength and 
his features : nay, though his opinions change 
every week or every day, yet he is sure, or at 
least confident, that his present thoughts and 
conclusions are just and true, and cannot be 
deceived. 

OUR TOILS AND THErR REWARD. 

He, who ascends to mountain-lops, shall find 

The loftiest peaks, most wrapt in clouds, and 
He, who surpasses, or subdues mankind, [snow; 

Must look down on the hate, of those below. 
Though high above, the sun of glory glow, 

And far beneath, the earth and ocean spread ; 
Round him, are icy rocks, and loudly blow 

Contending tempests, on his naked head, [led. 
And thus, reward the toils, which to those summits 

582. Parts of the Whole. This sun, 
with all its attendant planets, is but a very 
little part of the grand machine of the uni- 
verse; every star, though no bigger in ap- 
pearance than the diamond, that glitters 
on a lady ; s ring, is really, a vast globe, like 
the sun in size, and in glory ; no less spa- 
cious, no less luminous, than the radiant 
source of the day : so that every star is not 
barely a world, out the centre of a magnifi- 
cent system ; has a retinue of worlds irradia- 
ted by its beams, and revolving round its at' 
tractive influence, — all which are lost to our 
sight, in unmeasurable wilds of ether. 

SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY. 

She walks in beauty, like the night 

Of cloudless climes, and starry skies; 
And all that's best, of dark and bright, 

Meet in her aspect, and her eyes: 
Thus mellowed to that tender light, 

Which heaven, to gaudy day denies. 
One shade the more, one ray the less, 

Had half impaired the nameless grace, 
Which waves in every raven tress, 

Or softly lightens o'er her face ; 
Where thoughts, serenely sweet, express 

How pure, how dear, their dwelling plae*. 
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow. 

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, 
The smiles that win, the tints that glov», 

But tell of days, in goodness spent, 
A mind at peace, with all below, 
A heart, whose love, is innocent ! 

Men — are made to ber.d 
Before the mighty, and to follow on 
Submissive, where the great may lead— the grea^ 
Whose might— is not in crowns and palaces, 
In parchment-rolls, or blazon'd heraldry, 
But in the power of thought, the energy 
Of unsupported mind, whose steady will 
No force can daunt, no tangled patli divert 
From its right onward purpose. 

Will he be idle, who ha? nv>ch f eryoy f 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



23* 



583. Changing avd Unchanging. When 
!*e have looked on the pleasures of life, and they 
have vanished away ; when we have looked on 
the works of nature, and perceived that they were 
changing ; on the monuments of act, and seen that 
they would not stand ; on our friends, and they have 
fled while we were gazing; on ourselves, and felt 
that we were as fleeting as they ; when we have 
looked on every object to which we could turn our 
artious eyes, and they have all told us that they 
could give us no hope nor support, because they 
vera so feeble themselves; we can look to the 
throne of God : change and decay have never 
reached that; the re-volution of ages has never 
»oved it ; the waves of an eternity have been rush- 
ing past it, but it has remained unshaken; the 
waves of another eternity are rushing toward it, 
but it is fixed, and can never be disturbed. 

INFANT SLEEPING IN A GARDEN. 

Sleep on, sweet babe ! the flowers, that wake 

Around thee, are not half so fair ; 
Thy dimpling smiles, unconscious break, 

Like sunlight, on the vernal air. 
Sieep on ! no dreams of care are thine, 

No anxious thoughts, that may not rest; 
For angel arms around thee twine, 

To make thy infant slumbers bless'd. 
Perchance her spirit hovers near, 

Whose name, thy infant beauty bears, 
To guard thine eyelids, from the tear 

That every child of sorrow shares. 
Oh ! may thy life, like hers endure, 

Unsullied to its spotless close; 
And bend to earth, as calm and pure 

As ever bowed the summer rose. — Dawes. 

584. The estimate and valor of a man, con- 
sist in the heart, and in the will ; there, his 
true honor lives ; valor is stability, not of legs 
and arms, but of courage, and the soul ; it 
does not lie in the valor of our horse, nor of 
our arms, but in ourselves. He, that falls ob- 
stinate in his courage, Si succiderit de genu 
vugnat ; if his legs fail him, fights upon his 
knees. 

a mother's love. 
Hast thou sounded the depths — of yonder sea, 
And counted the sands, that under it be ? 
Hast thou measured the height— of heaven above? 
Then — mayest thou mete out — the mother's love. 
Hast thou talked with the blessed, of leading on, 
To the throne of God — some wandering son? 
Hast thou witnessed the angels' 1 bright employ? 
Then — mayest thou speak of a mother's joy. 
Evening and morn — hast thou watched the bee 
Go forth, on her errands of industry? 
The bee, for herself, hath gather'd and toil'd, 
But the mother's cares — are all for her child. 
Hast thou gone with the traveler, Thought, afar, 
From pole to pole, and from star to star! 
Thou hast — but on ocean, earth, or sea, 
The lieart of a mother— has gone with thee. 
There is not a grand, inspiring thought, 
There is not a truth— by wisdom taught, 
There is not & feeling, pure and high, 
That may not be read — in a mother's eye. 
There are teachings on earth, and sky, and air, 
The heavens— the glory of God declare ; 
But towder— than voice beneath, above, 
\e is heard to speak— through a mother's love. 



585. Balance or Happiness EauAL. An 
extensive contemplation of human affairs, 
will lead us to the conclusion, — that among 
the different conditions, and ranks of men, 
the balance of happiness — is preserved, ur 
a great measure, equal ; and that the high 
and the low, the rich and the poor, approach, 
in point of real enjoyment, much nearer to 
each other, than is commonly imagined. In 
the lot of man, mutual compensations, both 
of pleasure, and of pain, universally take 
place. Providence never intended, that any 
state here, should be either completely happy", 
or entirely miserable. If the feelings of pleas- 
ure are more numerous, and more lively, in 
the higher departments of life, such, also, are 
those of pain. If greatness flatters our vani- 
ty, it multiplies our dangers. If opulence in- 
creases our gratifications, it increases, in the 
same proportion, our desires and demands. 
If the poor — are confined to a more narrow 
circle, yet, within that circle, lie most of those 
natural satisfactions, which, after all the re- 
finements of art, are found to be the most 
genuine and true. In a state, therefore, 
where there is neither so much to be coveted, 
on the one hand, nor to be dreaded, on the 
other, as at first appears, how submissive 
ought we to be — to the disposal of Provi- 
dence ! how temperate — in our desires, and 
pursuits! how much more attentive — to 
preserve our virtue, and to improve our 
minds, than to gain the doubtful, and equivo- 
cal advantages of worldly prosperity. — Blair. 

A RAINY DAY. 

It rains. What lady— loves a rainy day 7 

Not she, who puts prunello on her foot, 

Zephyrs around her neck, and silken socks 

Upon a graceful ankle, — nor yet she, 

Who sports her tasseled parasol along 

The walks, beau-crowded, on some sunny noon, 

Or trips in muslin, in a winter's night, 

On a cold sleigh-ride — to a distant ball. 

She loves a rainy day, who sweeps the hearth, 

And threads the busy needle, or applies 

The scissors to the torn, or thread-bare sleeve ; 

Who blesses God, that she has friends at home ; 

Who, in the pelting of the storm, will think 

Of some poor neighbor, that she can befriend; 

Who trims the lamp at night, and reads aloud, 

To a young brother, tales he loves to hear; 

Or ventures cheerfully abroad, to watch 

The bedside of some sick, and suffering friend, 

Administering that best of medicines, 

Kindness, and tender care, and cheering hope ; 

Such — are not sad, e'en on a rainy day. 

Mankind are all hunters in various degree ; 
The priest hunts a living — the lawyer a fee, 
The doctor a patient— the courtier a place, 
Though often, like us, he's flung out in the chaco. 
The cit hunts a plum — while the soJdier hunt* 
The poet a dinner— the patriot a name ; [fame. 
And the practic'd coquette, tho' she seems to re- 
in spite of her airs, still her lover pursues. [fu?e, 
He' 8 on hia guard, who knows his enemy ; 
And innocence — may safely trust her shield 
Against an open foe ; bu* who's so mailed, 
That slander shall not reach him? Coward 
Stabs in the dark. [calumnf 

Heaven's great view is one, and that — foe whol*. 



240 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



587. OcR Country. And let the sa- 
cred obligations which have devolved on 
this generation, and on us, sink deep into 
our hearts. Those are daily dropping from 
unong us, who established our liberty and 
our governments The great trust now des- 
cends to new hands. Let us apply our- 
selves to that which is presented to us, as 
our appropriate object. We can win no lau- 
rels in a war for independence. Earlier and 
worthier hands have gathered them all. Nor 
are there places for us by the side of Solon, 
and Alfred, and other founders of states. 
Our fathers have filled them. But there re- 
mains to us a great duty of defence and pre- 
servation ; and there is opened to us, also, a 
noble pursuit, to which the spirit of the times 
strongly invites us. Our proper business is 
improvement. Let our age be the age of im- 
provement. In a day of peace, let us advance 
the arts of peace, and the works of peace ; 
let us develop the resources of our land; call 
forth its powers, build up its institutions, pro- 
mote all its great interests, and see whether 
we also, in our day and generation, may not 
perform something worthy to be remembered. 
Let us cultivate a true spirit cf union and 
harmony. In pursuing the great objects which 
our condition points out to us, let us act un- 
der a settled conviction, and an habitual feel- 
ing, that these twenty-six states are one 
country. Let our conceptions be enlarged 
to the circle of our duties. Let us extend our 
ideas over the whole of the vast field in which 
we are called to act. Let our object be, our 
country, our whole country, and nothing but 
our country. And, by the blessing of God, 
may that country itself become a vast and 
splendid monument, not of oppression and 
terror, but of wisdom, of peace, and of liberty, 
upon which the world may gaze with admir- 
ation forever. — Webster. 

DISAPPOINTED AMBITION. 

In full-blown dignity — see Wolsey stand, 
Law — in his voice, and fortune — in his hand ; [sign; 
To him, the church, the realm, their powers con- 
Through him, the rays of regal bounty shine ; 
Turn'd by his nod, the c^eam of honor flows ; 
His smile alone, security bestows. 
SlJI, to new heights, his restless wishes tower; 
Claim leads to claim, and power advances power ; 
Till conquest, unresisted, ceased to please, 
And rights submitted— left him none to seize. 
At length, his sovereign frowns; the train of state 
Maik the keen glance, and watch the sign to hate. 
Where'er be turns, he meets a stranger's eye ; 
His suppliants scorn him, and his followers fly. 
How drops, at once, the pride of awful state, 
The golden canopy, the glittering plate, 
The regal palace, the luxurious board, 
The liveried army, and the menial lord! 
With age, with cares, with maladies oppressed, 
He seeks the refuge of monastic rest. 
Grief aids disease, remembered folly slings, 
And his last sighs — reproach the faith of kings. 

Expectation. It is proper for all to re- 
member, that they ought not to raise expecta- 
tion, which it is not in their power to satisfy, 
and that it is more pleasing to see smoke 
brightening into flame, than flame — sinking 
into smoke. 

Prailty—Qiy name n Man ; tbe earth— waiti her king, 
frailly— thy name a tflcnon; the earth— wiii* her queen. 



588. Moral Effects of Intemferawc*. 
The sufferings of animal nature, occasioned 
by intemperance, are not to be compared with 
the moral ag^iies, which convulse the soul. 
It is an immortal being, who sins, and suffers; 
and, as his earthly house dissolves, he is ap- 
proaching the judgment-seat, in anticipation 
of a miserable eternity. He feels his capti- 
vity, and, in anguish of spirit, clanks his 
chain, and cries for help. Conscience thun- 
ders, remorse goads, and, as the gulph opens 
before him, he recoils, and trembles, and 
weeps, and prays, and resolves, and pro- 
mises, and reforms, and " seeks it yet again ;" 
again resolves, and weeps, and prays, and 
"seeks it yet again!" Wretched man! he 
has placed himself in the hands of a giant, 
who never pities, and never relaxes his iron 
gripe. He may struggle, but he is in chains. 
He may cry for release, but it comes not; 
and lost ! lost ! may be inscribed on the door- 
posts of his dwelling. In the meantime, these 
paroxysms of his dying nature decline, and 
a fearful apathy, the harbinger of spiritual 
death, comes on. His resolution fads, and 
his mental energy, and his vigorous enter- 
prise ; and nervous irritation and depression 
ensue. The social affections lose their full- 
ness and tenderness, and conscience loses its 
power, and the heart its sensibility, until all 
that was once lovely, and of good report, re- 
tires and leaves the wretch, abandoned to 
the appetites of a ruined animal. In this de- 
plorable condition, reputation expires, busi- 
ness falters, ar?d becomes perplexed, and 
temptations to drink multiply, as inclination 
to do so increases, and the power of resistance 
declines. And now the vortex roars, and the 
struggling victim buffets the fiery wave, with 
feebler stroke, and warning supplication, un- 
til despair flashes upon his soul, and, with an 
outcry, that pierces the heavens, he ceases to 
strive, and disappears. — Beecher. 

THE DESTRUCTION OF SENACHERD3. 
The Assyrian came down, like a wolf— on the fold, 
And hit cohorts — were gleaming— in purple, and gold ; 
And the sheen of his spears — was like stars — on (he tea, 
When the blue wave— rolls nightly, on deep Galilee. 
Like the leaves of the forest — when summer is green, 
That host, with their banners, at sunset were seen : 
Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown, 
That host, on the morrow lay withered and strowu. 
For the angel of death— spread his wings on the blast, 
And breathed in the face of the foe, as he pas»ed ; 
And the eyes of the sleepers — waxed deadly, and chill, 
And their hearts, but once heaved, and forever, were stifll 
And there— lay the steed, with his noitrijs all wide, 
But through them— there rolled not the breath of his pride; 
And the foam of his gasping — lay white on the turf, 
And cold— as the spray of the rock-beating mirf. 
And there — lay the rider, distorted, and pale, 
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail; 
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, 
The lances — unlifted, the trumpets — unblown. 
And the widows of Ashur— are .bud in their wail, 
And the idols are broke— in the temple of Baal ; 
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, 
Hath melted, like snow, in the glance of the Lord '.—Byroi%. 

Justice — is as strictly due between neigh- 
bor nations, as between neighbor citizens. 
A highwayman is as much a robber, when 
he plunders in a gang, as when single, and 
a nation, that makes an unjust war, is onlj 
a great gang. 

True happiness — is to no place confined : 
Cut stil' is found — in a contented mind 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



241 



597. WATIONAL GLORT v 

We arc asked, what have we gained by the 
war '; I have shown, that we have lost noth- 
ing, either in rights, territory, or honor ; noth- 
ing, for which we ought to have contended, 
according to the principles of the gentlemen 
on the other side, or according to our oivn. 
Have we gained nothing — by the war] Let 
any man — look at the degraded condition of 
this country — before the war, the scorn of 
the universe, t'he contempt of ourselves, and 
tell me if we have gained nothing by the 
war. What is our present situation ? Re- 
spectability, and character, abroad, security, 
and confidence, at home. If we have not ob- 
tained, in the opinion of some, the full meas- 
ure of retribution, our character, and constitu- 
tion, are placed on a solid basis, never to be 
shaken. 

The glory acquired by our gallant tars, by 
our Jacksons, and our Browns on the land — 
is that — nothing ? True we had our vicissi- 
tudes: there are humiliating events, which 
the patriot cannot review, without deep re- 
gret — but the great account, when it comes 
to be balanced, will be found vastly in our 
favor. Is there a man, who would obliterate, 
from the proud pages of our history, the bril- 
liant achievements" of Jackson, Brown, and 
Scott, and the host of heroes on land, and 
sea, whom I cannot enumerate ? Is there a 
man, who could not desire a participation — 
in the national glory, acquired by the war? 
Yes, national glory, which, however the ex- 
pression may be condemned by some, must 
be cherished by every genuine patriot. 

What do I mean by national glory ? Glo- 
ry such as Hull, Jackson, and Perry have ac- 
quired. And are gentlemen insensible to 
their deeds — to the value of them in anima- 
ting the country in the hour of peril hereaf- 
ter ! Did the battle of Thermopylae — pre- 
serve Greece but once ? Whilst the Missis- 
sippi — continues to bear the tributes of the 
Iron Mountains, and the Alleghenies — to her 
Delta, and to the Gulf of Mexico, the eighth 
of January shall be remembered, and the glo- 
ry of that "day shall stimulate future patriots, 
and nerve the arms of unborn freemen, in 
driving the presumptuous invader from our 
country's soil. 

Gentlemen may boast of their insensibility 
to feelings inspired by the contemplation of 
such events. But I would ask, does the re- 
collection of Bunker's Hill, Saratoga,, and 
Yorktown, afford no pleasure? Evejy act 
of noble sacrifice of the country, eve/ y in- 
stance of patriotic devotion to her cause, has 
its beneficial influence. A nation's character 
~is the sum of its splendid deeds; they con- 
stitute one common patrimony, the nation's 
inheritance. They awe foreign powers ; they 
arouse and animate our own people. I Love 
true glory. It is this sentiment which ought 
to be cherished ; and, in spite of cavils, and 
sneers, and attempts to put it down, it will 
rise triumphant, and finally conduct this na- 
tion to that height — to which nature, and na- 
ture's God— have destined it.— Clay. 

598. THE FLIGHT OF XERXES. 

I saw him— on the battle-eve, 
When, like a king, he bore him, — 

Pro"ad hosts, in glittering helm, and greave, 
And prouder chiefs — before him: 

Tie -varrior, and the warrior's deeds — 
Bit )N80N. Iff 



The morrow, and the morrow's meed,— 

No daunting thoughts — came o'er him ( 
He looked around him, and his eye — 
Defiance flashed—to earth, and sky. 
He looked on ocean,— its broad breast 

Was covered — with his fleet ; 
On earth : and saw, from east— to weal, 

His bannered millions meet : 
While rock, and glen, and cave, and COM* 
Shook — with the war-cry of that host, 

The thunder— of their feet J 
He heard — the imperial echoes ring,- 
He heard, — and felt himself— a king. 
I saw him, next, alone : nor camp, 

Nor chief, his steps attended; 
Nor banner blazed, nor courser's tramp, 

With war-cries, proudly blended, 
He, stood alone, whom fortune high, 
So lately, seemed to deify ; 

He, who with heaven contended, 
Fled, like a fugitive, and slave ! 
i Behind. — the foe ; before, — the wave. 
He stood ; fleet, army, treasure, — gone,— 

Alone, and in dispair ! 
But wave, and wind — swept ruthless on, 

For they were monarchs there ; 
And Xerxes, in a single bark, 
Where late — his thousand ships were dark. 

Must all their fury dare : 
What a revenge — a trophy, this — 
For thee, immortal Salamis \—Jewzbury. 
599. ossian's ADDRESS TO THE 5IOU.V. 

Daughter of heaven, fair art thou ! the si- 
lence of thy face is pleasant ! Thou comest 
forth in lovliness. The stars attend thy blue 
course in the east. The clouds rejoice in 
thy presence, O moon. They brighten their 
dark-brown sides. Who is like thee, in heav- 
en, light of the silent night ! The stars, in 
thy presence, turn away their sparkling eyes. 

Whither dost thou retire from thy course, 
when the darkness of thy countenance grows? 
Hast thou thy hall, like Ossian? Dwellest 
thou in the shadow of grief? Have thy sis- 
ters fallen from heaven ? Are they, who re- 
joice with thee at night, no more? Yes! 
they have fallen, fair light ! and thou dost oft- 
en retire to mourn. But thou thyself shalt 
fail, one night, and leave thy blue path in 
heaven. 

The stars will then lift up their heads, and 
rejoice. Thou art now clothed with thy 
brightness. Look from thy gates in the sky. 
Burst the cloud, O wind, that the daughter of 
night may look forth : that the shaggy roouii- 
tains may brighten, and the ocean roll itj 
white waves in light. 

SHIP. 

Her sails were set, but the dying wind 

Scarce wooed them, as they trembled on the yaid 

With an uncertain motion. She arose, 

As a swan rises on her gilded wings, 

When on a lake, at sunset, she uprears 

Her form from out the waveless stream, and steers 

Into the far blue ether — so, that ship 

Seem'd lifted from the waters, and suspended, 

Wing'd with her bright sails, in the silent air. 

For age, and want, serve — while you may; 

No morning sun — lasts a whole day. 



S42 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



59*2. A Battle-fieid. We cannot see 
an individual expire, though a stranger, or 
an enemy, without being sensibly moved, and 
prompted by compassion, to lend him every 
assistance in our power. Every trace of re- 
sentment — vanishes in a moment ; every 
other emotion — gives way to pity and terror. 
In these last extremities, we remember noth- 
ing, but the respect and tenderness, due to 
our common nature. What a scene, then, 
must a field of battle present, where thou- 
sands are left, without assistance, and with- 
out pity, with their wounds exposed to the 
Siercing air, while their blood, freezing as it 
ows, binds them to the earth, amid the 
trampling of horses, and the insults of an en- 
ranged foe! Far from their native home, 
no tender assiduities of friendship, no well- 
known voice, no wife, or mother, or sister, is 
near, to soothe their sorrows, relieve their 
thirst, or close their eyes in death. Unhappy 
man ! and must you be swe_pt into the grave, 
unnoticed, and unnumbered, and no friendly 
tear be shed for your sufferings, or mingled 
with your dust J 

593. BURIAL OF SIR JOKN MOORE. 

Not a drum I was heard I nor a funeral | note, 

As his corse I to the ramparts I we hurried, 
Not a soldier I discharged I his farewell shot, 

O'er the grave ' where our hero I we buried. 
We buried him I darkly I at dead of night, 

The turf I with our bay'nets I turning. 
By the struggling moonbeam's I misty light, 

And our lanterns I dimly burning. 
Few and short I were the prayers I we said, 

And we spoke I not a word I of sorrow, [dead, 
But we steadfastly gazed I on the face ! of the 

And we bitterly thought I on the morrow. 
No useless coffin I confined his breast, 

Nor in sheet I nor in shroud I we bound him, 
But he lay I like a warrior I taking his rest, 

With his martial cloak I around him. 
We thought | as we heaped I the narrow bed, 

And smoothed down I his lonely pillow, 
That the foe I and the stranger I would tread o'er 

And we I far away I on the billow, [his head, 
Lightly they'll talk | of the spirit I that's gone, 

And o'er his cold ashes I upbraid him. 
But nothing he'll reck I if they let him sleep on, 

In the grave I where a Briton has laid him. 
But half I our heavy task I wa3 done, 

When the clock I told the hour for retiring, 
And we heard the distant I and random gun, 

That the foe I was sullenly firing. 
Slowly I and sadly I we laid him down, 

From the field of his fame, fresh, and gory, 
We carved not a line, we raised not a stone, 

But we left him I alone in his glory. 

594. CASSIUS AGAINST CESAR. 

Honor — is the subject of my story ; — 

I cannot tell what you, and other men — 

Think of this life ; but for my single self, 

I had as lief not be, as live to be 

In awe — of t<uch a thing— as myself. 

/was born free as Cresar ; so were you; 

We have both fed as well ; and we can both 

Endure the winter's cold as well as he. 

for, onc« upon a raw and gusty day, 

Pi* tronuled Tiber, chafing with its shorei, 



Cresar says to me, — "Parest t'.;ou, Cassias, new 

Leap in with me, into this angry flood, 

And swim lo yonder point 1" — Upon the word. 

Accoutred »ts I was, I pluwged in, 

And hade him follow ; so, indeed, he did. 

The torrent roared, and we did buffet it ; 

With lusty sinews, throwing it aside, 

And stemming it, with hearts of controversy. 

But ere we could arrive the point proposed, 

Caesar cried, — "Help mc, Cassius, or I sink.'' 

/. bs JEneas, our great ancestor, 

Did from the flames of Troy, upon his shoulder 

The old Anchises bear, so, from the wavea ci 

Did /—the tired Catsar; and this man — [Tiber 

Is now — become a god ; and Cassius — is 

A wretched creature, and must bend his body, 

If Cicsar — carelessly but nod on him. 

He had a fever when he was in Spain, 
And when the ./it was on him, I did mark 
How he did shake : 'tis true, this god did shake; 
His coward lips did from their color fly ; 
And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the 
Did lose its lustre ; I did hear him groan, [world. 
Aye, and that tongue of his.that bade the Romans 
Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, 
"Alas V' it cried — "Give me some drink,Titinius " 
As a sick girl. 

Ye gods ! it doth amaze me. 
A man of such a feeble temper — should 
So get the start of the majestic world, 
And bear the palm alone. 
Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world, 
Like a Colossus, and we, petty men, 
Walk under his huge legs, and peep about, 
To find ourselves dishonorable graves. 
Men, at some time, are masters of their fates : 
The fault, dear Erutus, is net in our stars, 
But in ourselves, that we are underlings. [CtesarT 
Brutus— and Cmsar ! What should be in that 
Why should that name be sounded more than 

yours ? 
Write them together : yours is as fair a name ; 
Sound them : it doth become the mouth as well i 
Weigh them : it is as heavy ; conjure with 'em ; 
Brutus — will start a spirit, as soon as Caesar. 

Now, in the name of all the gods at once, 
Upon what meats — doth this our Caesar feed, 
That he hath grown so great? Age, thou art 

ashamed ; 
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods. 
When went there by an age, since the great flood. 
But it was famed with more than with one manl 
When could they say, till now, that talked oi 

Rome, 
That her wide walls encompassed but one manl 
Oh ! you, and I— have heard ou t fathers say, 
There was a Brutus once, th't would have brooked 
The infernal devil, to keep his state in Rome, 
As easily as a king. 

A u-arm heart — in this cold world — is like 
A 6eaeon-Iight — wasting feeble flame 
Upon the wintry deep, that fetls it not, 
And, trembling with each pitiless gust th't blow* 
Till its faint fire — is spent. 
Nature, in her productions slow, aspires. 
By just degrees, to reach perfec ion's height. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS 



248 



604* AGAINST THE AMERICAN WAR. 

I cannot, my lords, I will not, join in con- 
gratulation on misfortune, and disgrace. This, 
iny lords, is a perilous, and tremendous mo- 
ment It is not a time for adulation: the 
smoothness of flattery — cannot save us, in 
this rugged, and awful crisis. It is now ne- 
cessary, to instruct the throne, in the language 
of truth. We must, if possible, dispel the de- 
lusion, and darkness, which envelop it; and 
display, in its full danger, and genuine colors, 
the ruin, which is brought to our doors. Can 
ministers, still presume to expect support, in 
their infatuation 1 Can parliament, be so 
dead to its dignity, and duty, as to give their 
support to measures, thus obtruded, and for- 
ced upon them ! Measures, my lords, which 
have reduced this late flourishing empire — to 
scorn, and contempt! "But yesterday, and 
Britain might have stood against the world ; 
Jioio, none so poor, as to do her reverence. '" 
The people, whom we at first despised as re- 
bels, but whom we now acknowledge as ene- 
mies, are abetted against us, supplied with 
every military store, have their interest con- 
sulted, and their embassadors entertained by 
our inveterate enemy — and ministers do not, 
and dare not, interpose, with dignity, or ef- 
fect. The desperate state of our army abroad, 
is in part known. No man more highly es- 
teems, and honors the British troopsj than I 
do ; I know their virtues, and their valor ; I 
know they can achieve anything, but impos- 
sibilities; and I know that the conquest of 
British America is an impossibility. You 
cannot, my lords, you cannot conquer Amer- 
ica. What is your present situation there 1 
We do not know the worst ; but we know, 
that in three campaigns, we have done no- 
thing, and suffered much. You may swell 
every expense, and accumulate every assist- 
ance, and extend your traffic to the shambles 
of every German despot : your attempts will 
be forever vain, and impotent — doubly so, 
indeed, from this mercenary aid, on which 
you rely ; for it irritates, to an incurable re- 
sentment, the minds of your adversaries, to 
overrun them with the mercenary sons of ra- 
pine, and plunder, devoting them, and their 
possessions, to the rapacity of hireling cruelty. 
If /were an American, as I am an English- 
man, while a foreign troop was landed in my 
country, I never would lay down my arms ; 
No — Never, never, never. — Chatham. 

605. the whiskers. 
The kings, who rule mankind with haughty sway, 
The prouder pope, whom even kings obey — [fall, 
Love, at whose shrine both popes, and monarchs 
And e'en self-interest, that controls them all — 
Possess a petty power, when all combined. 
Compared whv* fashion's influence on mankind; 
For love itself will oft to fashion bow; 
The following story will convince you how : 
A petit maitre wooed a fair, 
Of virtue, wealth, and graces rare; 
, But vainly had preferr'd his claim, 
The maiden own'd no answering flame; 
At length, by doubt and anguish torn, 
Suspense, too painful to be borne, 
Low at her feet he humhly kneel'd, 
And thus his ardent flame reveal'd: 

"Fity my grief, angelic fair, 
Behold my anguish, and despair; 
For you, this heart must ever burn— 
O bless me, with a kind return ; 
My love, no language can express, 
E sward it th«n, with happiness; 



Nothing on earth, but you I prize, 
All else is trifling in my eyes ; 
And cheerfully, would I resigp 
The wealth of worlds, to calf you mitt* 
But, if another gain your hand, 
Far distant from my native land, 
Far hence, from you, and hope, I'll fly, 
And in some foreign region die." 

The maiden heard, and thus replied: 
"If my consent to be your bride, 
Will make you happy, then be blest: 
But grant me, first, one small request ; 
A sacrifice I must demand, 
And, in return, will give my hanc." 
" A sacrifice ! O speak its name, 
For you I'd forfeit wealth, and fame; 
Take my whole fortune — every cent — M 
" 'Twas something more than wealth I meant* 
" Must I the realms of Neptune trace* 

speak the word — where'er the place, 
For you, the idol of my soul, 

I'd e'en explore the frozen pole ; 
Arabia's sandy desert tread, 
Or trace the Tigris to its head." 
"O no, dear sir, I do not ask, 
P** long a voyage, so hard a task ; 
"You must — nut ah! the boon I want, 

1 have no hope that you will grant." 

" Shall I, like Bonaparte, aspire 
To be the world's imperial sire? 
Express the wish, and here I vow, 
To place a crown upon your brow.* 

" Sir, these are trifles"— she replied— . 
" But, if you wish me for your bride, 
You must — but still I fear to speak — 
You'll never grant the boon I seek." 

" O say !" he cried — " dear angel say — 
What must I do, and I obey ; 
No longer rack me with suspense, 
Speak your commands, and send me hence* 

" Well, then, dear generous youth I ' she one*, 
"If thus my heart you really prize, 
And wish to link your fate with mine, 
On one condition I am thine ; 
'Twill then become my pleasing duty, 
To contemplate a husband's beauty ; 
And, gazing on his manly face, 
His feelings, and his wishes trace; 
To banish thence each mark of care, 
And light a smile of pleasure there. 
O let me then, 'tis all I ask, 
Commence at once the pleasing task; 
O let me, as becomes my place, 
Cut those huge whiskers from your face." 

She said — but O, what strange surprise — 
Was pictured in her lover's eyes! 
Like lightning, from the ground he sprung, 
While wild amazement tied his tongue; 
A statue, motionless, he gazed, 
Astonish'd, horror-struck, amazed 
So, look'd the gallant Perseus, when 
Medusa's visage met his ken ; 
So, look'd Macbeth, whose guilty eye 
Discern'd an K air-drawn dagger" nigh; 
And so, the prince of Denmark stared, 
When first his father's ghost appeared! 

At length, our hero, silence broke, 
And thus, in wildest accents spoke : 
" Cut off my whiskers ! O ye gods ' 
I'd sooner lose my ears, by odds ; 
Madam, I'd not be so disgraced, 
So lost to fashion, and to taste, 
To win an empress to my arms ; 
Though blest with more than mortal ch"»nn«. 
My whiskers! Zounds!" He said no more, 
But quick retreated through the door, 
And sought a less obdurate fair, 
To take the beau, with all his hair. — Woodwwt* 

This path, you say, it hid in enJles* night ; 
Tls Ktf conceit, aloue, obstruct* your light. 



tii 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



597. Ossii.x's AnnnF.ss to the Sux. O i 
•\hou, that rollest above, round as the shield 
y't' my fathers ! whence are thy beams, O 
sun! thy everlasting light! Thou comest 
forth hi "thy awful beauty; the stars — hide 
themselves in the sky ; the moon, cold and 

Sale, sinks in the western wave. But thou, 
lyself, movest alone: who can be a com- 
panion of thy course"! The oaks of the 
mountains fall; the mountains themselves 
decay with years: the ocean shrinks, and 
grows again ; the moon, herself, is lost in the 
Heavens; but thou — art forever the same, re- 
joicing in the brightness of thy course. When 
the world is dark with tempests, when thun- 
ders roll, and lightnings fly, thou lookest in 
thy beauty from the clouds, and laughest at 
the storm. But to Ossian — thou lookest in 
vain ; for he beholds thy beams no more ; 
whether thy yellow hair — flows on the east- 
ern clouds, or thou trcmblest at the gates of 
the west But thou art, perhaps, like me, for 
a season : thy years will have an end. Thou 
wilt sleep in thy clouds, careless of the voice 
of the morning. 

598. DOUGLAS'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF. 

My name is Norval: on tbe Grampian hills 

My father feeds his flockE ; a frugal swain, 

Whose constant cares, were to increase his store, 

And keep his only son, myself, at home. 

For I had heard of battles, and I longed 

To follow 10 the field— some warlike lord ; 

And Heaven soon granted — what my sire denied. 

'i 'h i s moon wh i ch rose last night,round as my shield, 

Had not yet filled her horn, when, by her light, 

A band of fierce barbarians, from the hills, 

Rushed like a torrent — down upon the vale, 

Svreepirig our flocks and herds. The shepherds ned 

For safety, and for succor. I, alone, 

With bended bow, and quiver full of arrows, 

Hovered about the enemy, and marked 

The road he took ; then hasted to my friends, 

Whom, with a troop of fifty chosen men, 

t met advancing. The pursuit I led, 

Till we o'ertoofc the spoil-encumbered foe. [drawn, 

Wc fought, and conquered. Ere a sword was 

An arrow from my bow — had pierced their chief, 

Who wore, that day, the arms which now I wear. 

Returning home in triumph, I disdained 

The shepherd's slothful life ; and having heard 

Thai our good king— had summoned his bold peers 

To lead their warriors to the Carron side, 

I left my father's house, and took with me 

A chosen servant to conduct my steps, — 

Von trembling coward, who forsook his master. 

Journeying with this intent, I passed these towers, 

And, heaven-directed, came this day to do 

Tie happy deed, that gilds my humble name. 

MORAL TRUTH INTELLIGIBLE TO ALL. 

The shepherd lad, who, in the sunshine, carves 

On the green turf a dial, to divide 

The silent hours; and who, to that report, 

Can portion out his pleasures, and adapt 

His round of pastoral duties, is not left 

With less intelligence, for moral things, 

Of gravest import. Early, he perceives, 

Within himself, a measure, and a rule, 

Which, to the sun of truth, he can apply, 

That shines for him, and shines for ail mankind. 



599. Of Eiocutiov. Eloci tion — r t« 
art, or the act, of so delivering our own tU-r'U 
and feelings, or the thoughts and feelings of 
others, as not only to convey to those around 
us, with precision, force, and harmony, the full 
purport, and meaning of the words and sen- 
tences, in which these thoughts are clothed; 
but also, to excite and to impress upon their 
minds the feelings, imaginations, and pas- 
sions, by which those thoughts are dicls-teu.or 
by which they should naturally be accompani- 
ed. Elocution, therefore, in its more amrle 
and liberal signification, is not confined toine 
mere exercise of the organs of speech. l\ 
embraces the whole theory and practice of 
the exterior demonstration of the inward 
workings of the mind. To concentrate what 
has been said by an allegorical recapitulation: 
Eloquence — may be considered as the soul, or 
animated principle of discourse ; and is de- 
pendent on intellectual energy and intellect- 
ual attainments. Elocution — is the cmbo* 
dying form, or representative power; depen- 
dent on exterior accomplishments, and on 
the cultivation of the organs. Oratory — ix 
the complicated and vital existence, resulting 
from the perfect harmony and combination 
of eloquence and elocution. The vital exis- 
tence, however, in its full perfection, is on« 
of the choicest rarities of nature. The high 
and splendid accomplishments of oratory, 
even in the most favored age and the mosl 
favored countries, have been attained by few; 
and many are the ages, and many are the 
countries, in which these accomplishment* 
have never once appeared. Generations have 
succeeded to generations, and centuries have 
rolled after centuries, during which, the in- 
tellectual desert has not exhibited even one 
solitary specimen of the stately growth and 
flourishing expansion of oratorical genius. 
The rarity of this occurrence is, undoubtedly*, 
in part, to be accounted for, from the difficul- 
ty of the attainment. The palm of oratori 
cal perfection is only to be grasped- — it is, in 
reality, only to be desired, by aspiring souls, 
and intellects of unusual energy. It re- 
quires a persevering toil which few would be 
contented to encounter ; a decisive intrepid 
ity of character, and an untamableness of 
mental ambition, which very, very few can 
be expected to possess. It requires, also, 
conspicuous opportunities for cultivation and 
display, to which few can have the fortune 
to he horn, and winch fewer still will have 
the hardihood to endeavor to create. 

VIRTUE THE GUARDIAN OF YOUTH. 

Down the smooth stream of life the strip/ing darts, 
Gay as the morn ; bright glows the vernal sky, 
Ho; « swells his sails, and Passion steers his course 
So gi/des his little bark along the shore, 
Where virtue takes her stand : but if too far 
He launches forth beyond discretion's mark, 
Sudden the tempest scowls, the surges roar, 
Blot his fair day, and plunge him in the deej>. 

" My boy, the unwelcome hour is come, 

When thou, transplanted from thy genial howtfj 
Must find a colder soil, and bleaker air, 
And trust for safety— to a strangers care ■ 
Deceit~-\s the false road to happiness ; 
And all the joys we travel to, through vice, 
Iiike fairy banquets, vanish when we touch them 
See all, but man, with unearn'd pltaiurt gay. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



2*3 



606. Supposed Speech of John Adams on 
Adopting the Declaration of Independence. 
It is true, indeed, that in the beginning, we aim- 
ed not at independence. But there's a Divinity, 
which shapes our ends. The inj ustice of England 
has driven us to arms ; and, blinded to her own 
interest, for our good, she has obstinately persist- 
ed, till independence is now within our grasp. 
We have but to reach forth to it, and it is ours. 
Why, then, should we defer the declaration ? Is 
any man no weak, as now to hope for a reconci- 
liaticn with England, which shall leave either 
■afety to the country, and its liberties, or safety to 
his own life, and his own honor? 

Are not you, sir, who sit in that chair ; is not 
he, our venerable colleague near you; are you not 
ooth, already, the proscribed, and predestined ob- 
jects of punishment, and of vengeance ? Cut off 
from all hope of royal clemency, what are you, 
what can you be, while the power of England re- 
mains, but outlaws? If we postpone independence, 
do we mean to carry on, or to give up the war? 
Do we mean to submi to the measures of parlia- 
ment, Boston port-bill and all ? Do we mean to 
submit, and consent that we ourselves shall be 
ground to powder, and our country and its rights 
trodden down in the dust? 

I know we do not mean to submit. We never 
•hall submit. Do we intend to violate that most 
»olemn obligation, ever entered into by men, that 
plighting, before God, of our sacred honor to Wash- 
ington, when, putting him forth to incur the dangers 
of war, as well as the political hazards of the times, 
we promised to adhere to him, in every extrem- 
ity, with our fortunes, and our lives? 

I know there is not a man here, who would not 
rather see a general conflagration sweep over the 
land, or an earthquake sink it, than one jot or tittle 
of that plighted faith to fall to the ground. For 
myself, having, twelve months ago, in this place, 
moved you. that George Washington be appointed 
commander of the forces, raised, or to be raised, 
for defence of American liberty, may my right 
uand forget her cunning, and my tongue cleave to 
the roof of my mouth, if I hesitate, or waver in the 
support I give him. 

The war, then, must go on. We must fight it 
through. And, if .the war must go on, why put off 
longer, the declaration of independence? That 
measure will strengthen us. It will give us char- 
acter abroad. The nations will then treat with us ; 
which they never can do, while we acknowledge 
ourselves subjects, in arms against our sovereign. 
Nay, I maintain, that England herself will sooner 
treat for peace with us, on the footing of indepen- 
dence, than consent, by repealing her acts, to ac- 
knowledge that her whole conduct toward us, has 
been a course of injustice and oppression. 

Her pride will be less wounded, by submitting 
to that course of things, which now predestinates 
our independence, than by yielding the points in 
controversy to her rebellious subject*. The former 
she would regard as the result of fortune ; the latter 
•he would feel as her own deep disgrace. Why 
•beta, sir, do we not as soon as possible, change 
fciis fron a civil to a national war? And, since 
W» must fight it through; why not put ourselves in 

X2 



a state to enjoy all the benefits of v.ctory, f we 
gain the victory ? 

If we fail, it can be no worse for us.— But we 
shall not fail. The cause will raise up armies; 
the cause will create navies. The people, if we 
are true to them, will carry us, and will carry 
themselves, gloriously through this struggle. I care 
not how fickle other people have been found. 3 
know the people of these colonies; and I know, 
that resistance to British aggression is deep and 
settled in their hearts, and cannot be eradicated. 
Every colony, indeed, has expressed its willing- 
ness to follow, if we but take the lead. 

Sir, the declaration will inspire the people with 
increased courage. Instead of a long and bloody 
war for restoration of privileges, for redress of 
grievances, for chartered immunities, held under 
a British king, set before them the glorious object 
of entire independence, and it will breathe into 
them anew the breath of life. Read this declara- 
tion at the head of the army ; every sword will be 
drawn from its scabbard, and the solemn vow ut- 
tered, to maintain it or to perish on the bed of honor. 
Publish it from the pulpit; religion will approve it, 
and the love of religious liberty will cling around 
it, resolved to stand with it, or fall with it. Send 
it to the public halls; proclaim it there; let them 
hear it, who heard the first roar of the enemy's 
cannon ; let them see it, who saw their brothers 
and their sons fall on the field of Bunker-Hill, and 
in the streets of Lexington and Concord, — and the. 
very walls will cry out in its support. 

Sir, I know the uncertainty of human affairs •> 
but I see clearly,through this day's business. You 
and I, indeed, may rue it. We may not live to 
the time, when this declaration shall be made good. 
We may die; die, colonists; die, slaves; die, it 
may be, ignominiously, and on the scaffold. Be it 
so. If it be the pleasure of Heaven, that my coun- 
try shall require the poor offering of my life, the 
victim shall be ready, at the appointed hour o r 
sacrifice, come when that hour may. 

But, whatever may be our fate, be assured that 
this declaration will stand. It may cost treasure, 
and it may cost blood ; but it will stand, and it will 
richly compensate for both. Through the thick 
gloom of the present, I see the brightness of the 
future as the sun in heaven. We shall make this 
a glorious, an immortal day. When we are in 
our graves, our children will honor it. They will 
celebrate it with thanksgiving, with festivity, wit'a 
bonfires, and illuminations. On its annual return, 
they will shed tears, copious, gushing tears, notoJ 
subjection and slavery, not of agony and distress, 
but of exultation, of gratitude, and of joy. Sir, be- 
fore God I believe the hour is come. My judgment 
approves this measure, and my whole heart is in 
it. All that I am, all that I have, and all that I hep* 
for, in this life, I am now ready here to stake upon 
it : and I leave off, as I began ; sink or swim; live 
or die ; survive, or perish, I am for the declaration . 
it is my living sentiment; and, by the blessing of 
God, it shall be my dying sentiment — Independence 
now ! and independence — forever ! — Webster. 

Be not dismayed— -fear— nurses up a d*nmv; 
And resoluti n— kills it, — in the bi'th 



*46 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



601. Thk Effects of Gentleness. 
Gentleness — is the great avenue to mutual 
enjoyment Amidst the strife of interfering 
interests, it tempers the violence of conten- 
tion, and keeps alive the seeds of harmony. 
1 1 softens animosities, renews endearments, 
and renders the countenance of man, a re- 
freshment to man. Banish gentleness from 
I he earth; suppose the world to be filled, 
with none but harsh and contentious spirits, 
and what sort of society would remain ! the 
solitude of the desert were preferable to it. 
The conflict of jarring elements in chaos, 
the cave where subterraneous winds contend 
and roar, the den where serpents hiss and 
beasts of the forest howl, would be the only 
proper representation of such assemblies of 
men. Strange ! that, where men ha*e all one 
common interest, they should so often concur 
in defeating it. Has not nature already pro- 
vided a sufficient quantity of evils for the 
state of man 1 As if we did not suffer enough 
from the storm which beats upon us without, 
must we conspire also, in those societies 
where we assemble, in order to find a retreat 
from that storm, to harass one another'? 

A NIGHT SCENE IN TURKEY. 

Twas midnight: on the mountains brown 
The cold round moon— shone brightly down ; 
Blue rolled the ocean, blue the sky 
Spread, like an ocean, hung on high, 
Bespangled with those isles of light, 
So wildly, spiritually bright ; 
Who ever gazed upon them, shining, 
And turned to earth, without repining, 
Nor wished for wings to fly away, 
And mix — with their eternal ray? 
The waves, on either shore, lay there, 
Calm, clear, and azure as the air, 
And scarce their foam— the pebbles shook, 
But murmured meekly, as the brook. 
The winds— were pillowed on the waves, 
The banners drooped — along their staves, 
And as they fell around them, furling, 
Above them— shone the crecent curling ; 
And that deep silence was unbroke, 
Save when the watch — his signal spoke, 
Save when 'he steed — neighed oft and shrill, 
And echo answ?red — from the hill, 
And the wide hum — of that wild host 
Rustled, like leaves, from coast to coast, 
As rose the Muezzin's voice in air, 
In midnight call — to wonted prayer. 
It rose, that chaunted, mournful strain, 
Like some lone spirit's — o'er the plain ; 
Twas musical, but sadly sweet, 
Such as, when winds, and harp-str'ngsmeet; 
And take a long, unmeasured tone, 
To mortal minstrelsy, unknown: 
It seemed to those, within the wall, 
A cry — prophetic of their fall ; 
It muck — even the besieger's ear, 
'Villi something omnious, and drear, — 
An undefined, and sudden thrill, 
Which makes the heart— a moment still ; 
Then beat, with quicker pulse, ashamed 
Of that strange sense — its silence framed; 
Such as a sudden passing bell 
Wakes, though but for a stranger's knell. 
Enow thyself. 



602. TnF.ss On. This is a speech, brief 
but full of inspiration, am/ opening the way 
to all victory. The mystery of Napoleon a 
career was this, — under all difficulties and 
discouragements, " press on !" It solves the 
problem of all heroes ; it is the rule, by which 
to weigh rightly, ail wonderful successes, and 
triumphal marches — to fortune and genius. 
It should be the motto of all, old — and young, 
high — and low, fortunate — and unfortunate, 
so called. 

"Press on !" Never despair; never be dis- 
couraged, however stormy the heavens, how- 
ever dark the way ; however great the diffi- 
culties, and repeated the failures,- — " pres9 
on !" If fortune — has played false with thee 
to-day, do thou play true ior thyself to-mor- 
row. If thy riches have taken wings, and 
left thee, do not weep thy life away ; but be 
up and doing, and retrieve the loss, by new 
energies and' action. If an unfortunate bar- 
gain — has deranged thy business, do not fold 
thy arms, and give up all as lost; but stir 
thyself, and work the more vigorously. 

If those w T hom thou hast trusted, have be- 
trayed thee, do not be discouraged, do not 
idly weep, but " tress on !" find others; or, 
what is better, learn to live within thyself. 
Let the foolishness of yesterday — make thee 
wise to-day. If thy affections — have been 
poured out like water in the desert, do not sit 
down and perish of thirst, — but press on ; a 
beautiful oasis is before thee, and thou mayst 
reach it, if thou wilt. If another — has been 
false to thee, do not thou increase the evil — by 
being false to thyself. Do not say — the world 
hath lost its poetry and beauty ; 'tis not so 
and even if it be so, make thine own poetry 
and beauty, by a brave, a true, and. abov 
all, a religious life. 

ASPIRATIONS OF YOUTH. 

Higher, higher, will we climb, 

Up — the mount of glory, 
That our names— may live through tuno, 

In our country's story ; 
Happy, when her welfare calls, 
He, who conquers, — he, who falls. 
Deeper, deeper— let us toil, 

In the mines of knowledge ; 
Nature's wealth— and Learning's spoil 

Win from school— and college ; 
Delve we there — for richer gems, 
Than the stars of diadems. 
Onward, onward — may we pass, 

Through the path of duty ; 
Virtue — is true happiness, 

Excellence, true beauty ; 
Minds — are of celestial bjith : 
Make we, then, a heaven of eartl 
Closer, closer — let us knit 

Hearts, and hands together, 
Where our fireside comforts sit, 

In the wildest weather; 
O, they wander wide, who roam 
For the joys of life, from home. 
Nearer, dearer bands of love, 

Draw our souls in union, 
To our Father's house above 

To the saints' communion: 
Thither — ev'ry hope ascend, 
There — may all oui labon end. 



READINGS AND RECITA TIONS. 



247 



003 Hannibal to his Soldiers. On 
what side soever I turn my eyes, I behold all 
full -»f courage and strength ; a veteran infant- 
ry, a most gallant cavalry ; you, my allies, 
most faithful and valiant; you, Carthaginians, 
whom not only your country's cause, but the 
justest anger, impels to battle. The hope, the 
courage of assailants, is always greater than 
of those, who act upon the defensive. With 
hostile banners displayed, you are come down 
upon Italy; you bring the war. Grief, inju- 
ries, indignities, fire your minds, and spur 
rou forward to revenge. 

First, they demand me — that I, your gener- 
al, should be delivered up to them; next, all 
of you,viho had fought at the siege of Sagun- 
tum ; and we were to be put to death — by the 
extremest tortures. Proud, and cruel nation ! 
every thing must be yours, and at your dis- 
posal ! You are to prescribe to us, with whom 
we shall make war, with whom we shall make 
peace ! You are to set us bounds ; to shut us 
up within hills and rivers; but you — you are 
net to observe the limits, which yourselves 
have fixed. 

Pass not the Iberus ! What next ! Touch 
not the Saguntines ; is Saguntum upon the 
1 berus ! move not a step towards that city. Is 
it a small matter, then, that you have deprived 
us of our ancient possessions, Sicily and Sar- 
dinia! you would have Spain, too! Well, 
we shall yield Spain; and then — you will 
pass into Africa! Will pass, did I say! this 
very year, they ordered one of their consuls 
into Africa, the other into Spain. 

No, soldiers, there is nothing left for us, but 
what we can vindicate with our swords. 
Come on, then — be men. The Romans — may 
with more safety be cowards; they have their 
own country behind them; have places of 
refuge to rlee to, and are secure from danger 
in the roads thither; but for you, there is no 
middle fortune between death, and victory. 
Let this be but well fixed in your minds, arid 
once again, I say, you are conquerors. — Livy. 

604. VULTURE AND CAPTIVE INFANT. 
Fve been among the mighty Alps, and wandered thro' their vales, 
And heard the honest mountaineers— relate their dismal tales, 
As rcund the cotters' blazing hearth, when their daily work was o'er, 
They spake of those, who disappeared, and ne'er were heard of 

more. 
And there, I, from a shepherd, heard a narrative of fear, 
A tale— to rend a mortal heart, which mothers— might not hear ; 
The tears — were standing in his eyes, his voice — was tremulous; 
But, wiping all those iears away, he told his story thus : 

"It is among these barren cliffs — the ravenous vulture d— ells. 
Who never fattens on the prey, which from afar he smells ; 
But, patient, watching aour on hour, upon a lofty rock, 
He singles out some truant lamb, a victim, from the flock. 
^•ne cloudless Sabbath summer morn, the sun wat rising high, 
When, from my children on the green, I heard a fearful cry, 
Ai if some awful deed were done, a shriek of grief, and pain, 
4 cry, I humbly trust in God, I ne'er may hear again, 

I nurried out to learn the cause; but, overwhelmed vr'ah fright, 
The children never ceased to shriek ; and, from my frenzied sight, 
I missed the youngest of my babes, the darling of my care ; 
Rut something caught my searching eyes, ilow sailing thro' the air. 
Oh J what an awful spectacle — to meet a. father's eye, — 
Hk infant— made a vulture's prey, with terror to descry ; 
And know, with agonizing heart, and with a maniac rave, 
That earthly power— could not avail— that innocent to save ! 
My infimt— stretched his little hands— imploringhf to me, 
And struggled with the ravenous bird, all vainly to get free: 
At intervals, \ heard hk cries, as loud he shrieked, and screamed 
Until, upon tl e arurn sky, \ lessening spot he seemed. 



The vulture— flapped his uail-like wings, ftiuigh leavUv be fle»» ; 
A mote, upon the sun's broad face, he seemed unto my view ; 
But once, 1 thought I saw him stoop, as if he would alight,— 
'Twas only a delusive thought, for alt had vanished quite. 
All search was vain, and years had passed ; that child was n*>r* 
When once a daring hunter climbed ui.to a lofty spot, [forglt, 
From thence, upon a rugged crag— the chamois never reached, 
He saw— an infant's fleshless bones — the elements had 1 
I cumbered up that rugged cliff,— I could not stay away, — 
I knew they were my infant's bones — thus hastening to dtca 
A tattered garment — yd remained, though torn to many a I 
The crimson cap— he wore that morn — was still upon his h 
That dreary spot — is pointed out to travelers, passing by, 
Who often stand, and musing, gaze, nor go without a sigh ; 
And as /journeyed, the next morn, along my sunny way, 
The precipice was shown to me, whereon the infant lay.— 
605. THE HERMIT. 
At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still. 
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove : 
When nought, but the torrent, is heard on the hill, 

And nought, but the nightingale's song, ir. the grove. 
Twas thus, by the cave of the mountain afar, 

While his harp rung symphonious, a hermit btgv • 
No more with himself, or with nature at war, 
He thought as a sage, tho' he felt ai a man. 
( "Ah ' why, all abandon'd to darkness and wo ; 
Why, lone Philomela, tliat languishing fall ? 
For spring shall return, and a lover bestow, 
And sorrow no longer thy bosom inthral. 
But, if pity inspire thee, renew the sad lay, 

Mourn, sweetest complainer, man calls thee to movrn; 
soothe him, whose pleasures, like thine, pass away. 

Full quickly they pass— but they never return. 
" Now gliding remote, on the verge of the iky, 

The moon, half extinguish "d, her crescent displays 
But lately I mark'd, when, majestic on high, 

She shone, and the planets were lort, in her blase. 
Roll on, thou fair orb, and, with gladness, pa-sue 
The path, that conducts thee to splendor again : 
But man's faded glory, what change shall renew ! 

Ah fool ! to exult in a glory so vain ! 
" 'Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more : 

I mourn; but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you; 
For morn is approaching, your charms to restore, 

Ferfum'd with fresh fragrance, and glitt'ring with d«r 
Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn ; 

Kind nature the embryo blossom will save : 
But when shall spring visit the mouldering urn ! 

O, when shall day dawn, on the night of the gravs 
"'Twas thus, by the glare of false science betray "d, 

That leads, to bewilder ; and dazzles, to blind ; 
My thoughts wont to roam, from shade onward to shidi% 

Destruction before me, and sorrow behind. 
pity, great Father of light, then I cried, 

Thy creature, who fain would not wanu'er from tiiee 
Lo, humbled in dust, I relinquish my pride: 

From doubt, and from darkness thou only, canst free. 
"And darkness and doubt are now flying away: 

No longer I roam in conjecture forlorn : 
So breaks on the traveler, faint and astray, 

The bright, and the balmy effulgtmce of morn. 
See truth, love, and mercy, in triumph descending, 

And nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom ! 
On the cold cheek of death smiles, and roses are blecdirj^ 
And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb. — Beatti* 

O what a vision — were the stars, 

When first I saw them hum on high, 
Rolling along, like living cars 

Of light, — for gods to journey by. 
The world — is full of poetry — the ait 
Is living with its spirit; the waves— 
Dance — to the music of its melodies, 
A utl sparkle — in its brightness. 

In struggling with misfortunes, 
Lies the true proof— of vii tut. 



248 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



606. The Chaw actf.ti op Woman. The 

influence of the female character — is now 
felt, and acknowledged, in all the relations of 
life. I speak not now, of those distinguished 
women, who instruct their age through the 
public press. Nor of those, whose devout 
strains we take upon our lips, when we wor- 
ship. But of a much larger class ; of those, 
whose influence is felt in the relations of 
neighbor, friend, daughter, wife, mother. 

Who waits at the couch of the sick, to ad- 
minister tender charities, while life lingers, or 
to perform the last acts of kindness, when 
death comes ? Where shall we look for those 
examples of friendship, that most adorn our 
mature; those abiding friendships, which 
trust, even when betrayed, and survive all 
changes of fortune 1 Where shall we find 
the brightest illustration of filial piety 1 Have 
you ever seen a daughter, herself, "perhaps, 
timid and helpless, watching the decline of an 
aged parent, and holding out, with heroic for- 
titude, to anticipate his wishes, to administer 
to his wants, and to sustain his tottering steps 
to the very borders of the grave 1 

But in no relation — does woman exercise 
so deep an influence, both immediately, and 
pi ospectively, as in that of mother. To her is 
committed the immortal treasure of the infant 
mind. Upon her — devolves the care of the 
first stages — of that course of discipline, 
which is to form a being:, perhaps the most 
frail and helpless in the world, the fearless 
ruler of animated creation, and the devout 
adorer of his great Creator. 

Her smiles call into exercise the first affec- 
tions, that spring- up in our hearts. She cher- 
ishes, and expands — the earliest germs of our 
intellects. She breathes over us her deepest 
devotions. She lifts our little hands, and 
teaches our little tongues to lisp in prayer. 
She watches over us, like a guardian angel, 
and protects us through all our helpless years, 
when we know not of her cares, and her 
anxieties, on our account. She follows us 
into the world of men, and lives in us, and 
blesses us, when she lives not otherwise upon 
the earth. 

What constitutes the centre of every home 1 
Whither do our thoughts turn, when our feet 
are weary with wandering, and our hearts 
sick with disappointments ] Where shall the 
truant and forgetful husband go — for sympa- 
thy, unalloyed, and without design, but to the 
bosom of her who is ever ready, and waiting 
to share in his adversity, or prosperity ] And 
if there be a tribunal, where the sins and 
the follies of a froward child — may hope for 
pardon and forgiveness, this side heaven, that 
t-ibunal — is the heart of a fond, and devoted 
mother. 

Finally, her influence is felt, deeply, in reli- 
gion. "If Christianity, should be compelled 
to flee from the mansions of the great, the 
academies of philosophers, the halls of legis- 
lators, or the throng of busy men, we should 
f»nd her last, and purest retreat — with woman 
at the fireside ; her last altar — would be the 
female heart; her last audience — would 
be the children gathered round the knees of 
the mother ; her last sacrifice, the secret 

Krayer, escaping in silence from her lips, and 
card, perhaps, only at the throne of God." 
How empt 'ij, learning, and how rain is art ; 
Have where it guides the life, and mends the heart, 
fancy and pride reach things at vast expense. 



INDIAN IfAMES 
" How can the red men be forgotten, whi so B«iT of our itato 
and territories, bays, lakes, and rivers, are indelibly stamped by 
names of their giving ?" 

Ye say — ihey all have pass'd away, 

That noble race— and brave ; 
That their light canoes— have vanish'd 

From off the crested wave; 
That, 'mid the forests— where they roam <J, 

There rings no hunter's shout; 
But their name — is on your waters, 

Ye may not wash it out. 
'Tis where Ontario's billow — 

Like ocean's surge — is curl'd; 
Where strong Niagara's thunders— wake 

The echo— of the world ; 
Where red Missouri — bringeth 

Rich tribute — from the west; 
And Rappahamiock— sweetly sleeps 

On green Virginia's breast. 
Ye say — their conelike cabins, 

That cluster'd o'er the vale, 
Have disappear'd, as wither'd leaves — 

Before the autumn's gale; 
But their memory— liveth on your hills, 

Their baptism — on your shore ; 
Your everlasting rivers — speak 

Their dialect of yore. 
Old Massachusetts — wears it — 

Within her lordly crown; 
And broad Ohio— bears it— 

Amid his young renown : 
Connecticut — hath wreath'd it — 

Where her quiet foliage waves, 
And bold Kentucky — breathes it hoarse — 

Through all her ancient caves. 
Wachusett— hides its lingering voice — 

Within his rocky heart, 
And Alleghany — graves its tone — 

Throughout his lofty chart. 
Monadnock, on his forehead hoar, 

Doth seal the sacred trust ; 
Your mountains — build their monument. 

Though ye destroy their dust. 

Improvement of Mind without Dis- 
play. Well-informed persons will easily be 
discovered, to have read the best books, tho' 
they are not always detailing lists of autndrs: 
for a muster-roll of names — may be learned 
from the catalogue, as well as from the library. 
The honey — owes its exquisite taste — to the 
frajrrance of the sweetest flowers ; yet the 
skill of the little artificer, appears in this, that 
the delicious stores are so admirably worked 
up, and there is such a due proportion ob- 
served in mixing them, that the perfection of 
the whole — consists in its not tasting, indi 
vidually, of the rose, the jassamine, the carna- 
tion, or any of those sweets, of the very es- 
sence of all which it is compounded. But 
true judgment will discover the infusion, 
which true modesty will not display; and 
even common subjects, passing through a 
cultivated understanding, borrow a flavor of 
its richness. 

What stronger breastplate than a heart un faint W 
Thrice is he armed, who hath his quarrel just; 
And he, but naked, tho' locked in stec!. 
Whose conscience, with injustice iscoirupted. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS 



24S 



607. ODE ON THE PASSIONS. 

When Music, heavenly maid, was young, 
While yet, in early Greece, she sung, 
The Passions oft, to hear her shell, 
Thre.ig'd— around her magic cell ; 
Exu.ting, tremblimr, raging, fainting, 
Possess'd beyond the Muse's painting. 
By turns, they felt the glowing mind 
Disturb'd, delighted, raised, refined: 
Till once, 'tis said, when all were fired, 
Fill'd with fury, rapt, inspired, 
From the supporting myrtles round, 
They snatch'd her instruments of sound J 
And, as they oft had heard apart, 
Sweet lessons of her forceful art, 
Each — for Madness ruled the hour — 
Would prove his own expressive power. 

First, Fear, his hand, its skill to try, 
Amid the chords, bewilder'd laid ; 

And back recoil'd, he knew not why, 
Even at the sound himself had made. 

Next, Anger rush : d, his eyes on fire, 
In lightnings, own'd his secret stings: 

In one rude clash he struck the lyre, 
And swept, with hurried hands, the strings. 

With woful measures, wan Despair — 
Low, sullen sounds! his grief beguiled; 

A solemn, strange, and mingled air; 
Twas sad, by fits — by starts, 'twas wild. 

But';hou, O Hope; with eyes so fair, 
. What was thy delighted measure! 
Still it whisper'd — promised pleasure, 
A. id bade the lovely scenes at distance hail. 

Still would her touch the strain prolong; 
And from the rocks, the woods, the vale, 

She call'd on Echo still, through all her song. 
And, where her sweetest theme she chose, 
A soft, responsive voice was heard at every close; 
And Hope, enchanted, ^nilec 1 and wav'd her gold- 
en hair. 

And longer had she sung— but, witn a frown, 

Revenge — impatient rose, [down ; 

He threw his blood-stained sword in thunder 

And, with a withering look, . 

The war-denouncing trumpet took, 
And blew a blast, so loud and dread, 
Were neVr prophetic sounds so full of woe; 

And, ever and anon, he beat 

The doubling drum with furious heat, [tween, 
And though, sometimes, each dreary pause be- 

Dfjected Pity, at his side, 

Her soul-subduing voice applied, 
Yet still, he kept his wild unalter'd mien; 
While each strain'd ball of sight seem'd bursting 
from his head. 

Thy numbers, Jealousy, to nought were fix'd ; 

Sa j proof of thy distressful state ! 
Of differing themes the veering song was mix'd : 

And, now, it courted Love ; now, raving, call'd 
on Hate. 

With eyes upraised, as one inspired, 
Pale Melancholy sat, retired; 
And, from her wild sequester'd seat, 
In notes, by distance, made more sweet, 
Poos**! thrc" the mellow horn her pensive soul: 
And, dashing soft, from rocks around, 
Bubbling runnels joined the sound. [stole; 
Thro' glades and glooms, the mingled measure 
Or o'er some haunted streams, with fond delay, 
Round — a holy calm diffusing, 
Love of peace, and lonely musing — 
In hollow murmurs— d;ed away. 
But, oh, how alter'd was its sprightlier tone ! 
WhenCheirf ulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, 

Her bow across her shoulders flung, 
Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew, [rung; 
Blew an inspiring air. that dale and thicket 
Tlie hunter 1 ! call, to Faun and Dryad known ! 
32 



The oak-c-rown'd sisters, and their chaste eyei 
Satyrs, and sylvan boys, were seen, [queen. 
Peeping from forth their alleys green; 
Brown Exercise rejoiced to hear; 
And Sport leap'd up, and seiz'd his beechen spear 

Last, came Joy's ecstatic trial. 
He, with viny crown advancing, 
First to the lively pipe his hand address'd ; 

But soon, he saw the brisk awakening viol, 
Whose sweet, entrancing voice he lov'd the best. 
They would have thought, who heard the strain, 
They saw, in Tempe's vale, her native maidn, 

Amid the festal-sounding shades, 
To some unwearied minstrel dancing; 
While, as his flying fingers kiss'd the Btricea^ 
Love, fram'd with Mirth, a gay fantastic round- 
Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound ; 
And he, amid his frolic play, 
As if he would the charming air repay. 
Shook thousand odors— from ms dewy wh~ff» 

608. THE CHESTNUT HOESB. 

An Eaton stripling, training for the law, 

A dunce at syntax, but a dab at taw, 

One liappy Christmas, laid upon the shelf 

His cap and gown, and stores of learned pelf, 

With all the deathless bards of Greece and Rome, 
i To sper.d a fortnight at his uncle's home. 

Return 'd, and past the usual how-d'ye-does, 

Inquiries of old friends, and college news : 

"Well, Tom, the road ; what saw you worth discerning t 

Ho w 's all at college, Tom ? — what a 't you 're learning J* 

" Learning ! — 0, logic, logic ! — not the shallow rule* 

Of Locke and Bacon — antiquated fools! 

But wits' and wrangleis' logic ; for d' ye- tee, 

I 'II prove as clear, — as clear as A. B. C, 

That an eel pie 's a pigeon ; to deny it, 

Is to say black 's not black." — 

" Come, let 's try it V 

" Well, sir ; an eel pie is a pie of fish." " Agreed." 

" Fish pie may be a jack pie." — " Well, well, proeeai.* 

u A jack pie is a John pie — and, tis done! 

For every John pie must be a pie-John." — {pigeon.) 

"Bravo! bravo!" Sir Peter cries; " logic forever! 

That brats my grandmother, and she was clever ; 

But now I think on t, 't would be mighty hard 

If merit such as thine met no reward ; 

To show how much I logic love in course, 

I '11 make thee master of a chestnut horse." 

"A horse !" quoth Tom, "blood, pedigree, aarl past*,' 

0, what a dash I 'II cut at Epsom races !* 

Tom dreamt all night of boots and leather breech**, 

Of hunting-caps, and leaping rails and ditches ; 

Rose the next morn an hour before the lark, 

And dragg'd his uncle, fasting, to the park ; 

Bridle in hand, each vale he scours of course, 

To find out something like a chestnut horse; 

But no such animal the meadows cropt, 

Till under a large tree Sir Peter stopt, 

Cauglrt at a branch, and shook it, when down fell 

A fine horse chestnut, in its prickly shell. 

u There. Tom, take that."—" Well, sir, and what beetle P 

" Why, since you 're booted, saddle it and ride." 

" Ride ! what, a chestnut, sir ?"— " Of course, , 

For I can prove that chestnut is a horse; 

Not from the doubtful, fusty, musty rules 

Of Locke and Bacon, antiquated fools, 

Nor old Malebranch, blind pilot into knowletf»e, 

But by the laws of wit and Eton college ; 

As you have prov'd, and which I don't deny, 

That a pie John 'i the same as a John pie, 

The matter follows, at a thing of course, 

That a horse-chestnut is a chestnut horse." 
Know, Nature's children all divide her care ; 
The/ur, that warms a monarch, warm'd a bear. 
While man exclaims, " See all things for my use!* 
" See man for mine!" replies the pamper'd goof, 
And just as short of rearon — he must fall, 
Who thinks all made fot on*., not o»e--for alL 



250 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



600. National Union. Do not, gentle- 
men, suffer the rage of passion to drive rea- 
son from her scat If this law be indeed bad, 
lot us loin to remedy its defects. Has it been 
passedf in a manner which wounded your 
pride, or roused your resentment '.' Have, I 
conjure you, the magnanimity to pardon that 
offence. I entreat, I implore you, to sacri- 
fice those angry passions to the interests of 
our country. Pour out this pride of opinion 
on the altar of patriotism. Let it be an ex- 
piatory libation for the weal of America. Do 
not suffer that pride to plunge us all into the 
abyss of ruin. Indeed, indeed, it will be but 
of little, very little avail, whether one opin- 
ion or the other be right or wrong ; it will 
heal no wounds, it will pay no debts, it will 
rebuild no ravaged towns. Do not rely on 
that popular will, which has brought us frail 
beings into political existence. That opin- 
ion is but a changeable thing. It will soon 
change. This very measure will change it. 
You will be deceived. Do not, I beseech you, 
in reliance on a foundation so frail, commit 
the dignity, the harmony, the existence of 
our nation to the wild wind. Trust not your 
treasure to the waves. Throw not your com- 
pass and your charts into the ocean. Do not 
believe that its billows will waft you into 
port. Indeed, indeed, you will be deceived. 
Cast not away this only anchor of our safety. 
I have seen its progress. I know the diffi- 
culties through which it was obtained. I 
stand in the presence of Almighty God and 
of the world. I declare to you, that if you 
lose this charter, never, no never, will you 
get another. We are now perhaps arrived at 
the parting point. Here, even here, we stand 
on the brink of fate. Pause, then — pause. 
For Heaven's sake, pause. — Morris. 

ATHEIST AND ACORN. 

"Methinks the world— seems oddly made, 

And every thing — amiss ;" 
A dull, complaining atheist said, 
As stretched he lay — beneath the shade, 

And instanced it — in this: 
"Behold," quoth he, "that mighty thing, 

A pumpkin, large, and round, 
Is held — but by a little string, 
Which upwards cannot make it spring, 

Nor bear it from the ground. 
While on this oak — an acorn small, 

So disproportioired grows, 
That whosoe'er surveys this all, 
This universal casual ball, 

Its ill contrivance knows. 
My better judgment — would have hung 

The pumpkin — on tie tree, 
And left the acorn— slightly strung, 
'Mongst things— that on the surface sprung, 

And weak and feeble be." 
No more — the caviler could say, 

No further faults descry ; 
For, upwards gazing, as he lay, 
An acorn, loosened from its spray, 

Fell down upon his eye. 
The wounded part— with tears ran o'er, 

as punished for that sin ; 
Fool ! had that bough — a pumpkin bore, 
Thy whimseys — would have worked no more, 

Nor ikull— have kept there in. 



MY COUNTRY. 

I love my country's pine-clad hills, 
Her thousand bright, and gushing rill*, 

Her sunshine, and her storms; 
Her rough and rugged rocks, that rear 
Their hoary heads, high in the air 

In wild fantastic forms. 
I love her rivers, deep and wide, 
Those mighty streams, that seaward glicL^ 

To seek the ocean's breast ; 
Her smiling fields, her pleasant vales, 
Her shady dells, her llow'ry dales, 

The haunts of peaceful rest. 
I love her forests, dark and lone, 
For there — the wild birds' merry tone, 

I heard from morn — till night ; 
And there — are lovlier flowers I ween, 
Than e'er in eastern lands were seen, 

In varied colors bright. 
Her forests — and her valleys fair, 
Her flowers, that scent the morning air, 

Have all their charms for me ; 
But more — I love my country's name, 
Those words, that echo deathless fame, 
" The land of Liberty."— Anon. 
610. Sublimity of Mountain Scene- 
ry. Of all the sights, that nature offers to 
the eye, and mind of man, mountains — have 
always stirred my strongest feelings. 1 have 
seen the ocean, when it was turned up from 
the bottom by tempest, and noon — was like 
night, with the conflict of the billows, and 
the storm, that tore, and scattered them, in 
mist and foam, across the sky. I have seen 
the desert rise around me, and calmly, in the 
midst of thousands, uttering cries of horror, 
and paralysed by fear, have contemplated the 
sandy pillars, coming like the advance of 
some gigantic city of conflagration — flying 
across the wilderness, every column glowing 
with intense fire, and every blast — death ; the 
sky — vaulted with gloom, the earth — a fur- 
nace. But with me, the mountain, in tempest, 
or in calm, the throne of the thunder, or with 
the evening sun, painting its dells and decliv- 
ities in colors dipped in heaven — has been 
the source of the most absorbing sensations. 
There stands magnitude, giving the instant 
impression of a power above man — grand- 
eur, that defies decay — antiquity, that tells 
of ages unnumbered — beauty, that the touch 
of time makes only more beautiful — use, ex 
haustless for the service of man — strength 
imperishable as the globe ; the monument of 
eternity, — the truest earthly emblem of that 
ever-living, unchangeable, irresistible Majes- 
ty, by whom and for whom, all things were 
made ! — Croly. 

The time shall come, the fated hour is nigh. 
When guiltless blood — shall penetrate the iky 
Amid these horrors, and involving night, 
Prophetic visions flash before my sight ; 
Eternal justice wakes, and, in their turn, 
The vanquished — triumph, and the victors mourn! 
A hungry fean-faced villain^ 
A mere anatomy, a mountebanK, 
A thread-bare juggler, and a. fortune-teller, 
A needy, hollou -eyed. sAar/>-looking wrtteh, 
A living-dead man. 
False pleasure — from abroad her joys impart!. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



2M 



©11. The Murderer: Knapp's Trial. 
Though I could well have wished to shun 
this occasion, I have not felt at liberty, to 
withhold my professional assistance, when it 
is supposed, that I might be, in some degree, 
useful — in investigating, and discovering the 
truth, respecting this most extraordinary mur- 
der. It lias seemed to be a duty, incumbent 
on me, as on every other citizen, to do my 
best, and my utmost, to bring to light the per- 
petrators of this crime. 

Against the prisoner at the bar, as an indi- 
vidual, I cannot have the slightest prejudice. 
I would not do him the smallest injury or in- 
justice. But I do not affect to be indifferent 
to the discovery, and the punishment, of this 
deep guilt. I cheerfully share in the oppro- 
brium, how much soever it may be, which is 
cast on those, who feel, and manifest, an anx- 
ious concern, that all who had a part in plan- 
ning, or a hand in executing, this deed of mid- 
night assassination, may be brought to answer 
for their enormous crime, at the bar of public 
justice. 

Gentlemen, it is a most extraordinary case. 
In some respects, it has hardly a precedent 
anywhere; certainly none in our New England 
history. This bloody drama exhibited no sud- 
denly excited, ungovernable rage. The actors 
in it were hot surprised by any lion-like temp- 
tation, springing upon their virtue, and over- 
coming it, before resistance could begin. Nor 
did they do the deed to glut savage vengeance, 
or satiate long-settled, and deadly hate. 

It was a cool, calculating, money-making 
murder. It was all " hire and salary, not re- 
venge." It was the weighing of money against 
life: the counting out of so many pieces of 
silver, against so many ounces of blood. An 
aged man, without an enemy in the world, in 
his own house, and in his own bed, is made the 
victim of a butcherly murder, for mere pay. 
Truly, here is a new lesson for painters and 
poets. 

Whosoever shall hereafter draw the portrait 
of Murder, if he will show it as it has been 
exhibited in one example, where such exam- 
ple was last to have been looked for, in the 
very bosom of our New England society, let 
him not give the grim visage of Moloch, the 
brow, knitted by revenge, the face, black with 
settled hate, and the blood-shot eye, emitting 
livid fires of malice. 

Let him draw, rather, a decorous, smooth- 
faced, bloodless demon ; a picture in repose, 
rather than in action ; not so much an exam- 
ple of human nature, in its depravity, and in 
its paroxysms of crime, as an infernal nature, 
a fiend, in the ordinary display, and develop- 
ment of his character. 

The deed was executed with a degree of 
"elf-possession and steadiness, equal to the 
wickedness with which it was planned. The 
circumstances, now clearly in evidence, spread 
out the whole scene before us. Deep sleep had 
fallen on the destined victim, and on all be- 
neath his roof, — a healthful old man to whom 
sleep was sweet; — the first sound slumbers of 
the night held him in their soft but strong em- 
br^ce. 

The assassin enters, through the window 
already prepared, into an unoccupied apart- 
ment. With noiseless foot he paces the lonely 
hall, half-lighted by the moon ; he winds up 
the ascent of the stairs, and reaches the door 
of the chamber. Of this he moves the lock, 
by soft and continued pressure, till it turns on 



its hinges without noise; and he enters, an-«? 
beholds his victim before him. 

The room was uncommonly open to th« 
admission of light The face of the innocent 
sleeper was turned from the murderer, and 
the beams of the moon, resting on the gray 
locks of his aged temple, showed him where 
to strike. The fatal blow is given ! and the 
victim passes, without a struggle, or a motion, 
from the repose of sleep to the repose of death ! 

It is the assassins purpose to make sure 
work; and he yet plies the dagger, though it 
was obvious that life had been destroyed by 
the blow of the bludgeon. He even raises the 
aged arm, that he may not fail in his aim at 
the heart, and replaces it again over the 
wounds of the poinard ! To finish the pic- 
ture, he explores the wrist for the pulse ! He 
feels for it, and ascertains that it beats no 
longer! It is accomplished. The deed is done! 
He retreats, retraces his steps to the window, 
passes out through it, as he came in, and es- 
capes. He has done the murder, — no eye has 
seen him, no ear has heard him. The secret 
is his own, and it is safe ! 
i Ah! gentlemen, that was a dreadful mistake. 
Such a secret can be safe nowhere. The whole 
creation of God has neither nook, nor corner, 
where the guilty can bestow it, and say it i# 
safe. Not to speak of that eye, which glanccg 
through all disguises, and beholds everything, 
as in the splendor of noon, such secrets of guilt 
are never safe from detection even by men. 

True it is, generally speaking, that " mur- 
der will out." True it is, that Providence hath 
so ordained, and doth so govern things, that 
those, who break the great law of Heaven, 
by shedding man's blood, seldom succeed in 
avoiding discovery. Especially, in a case 
exciting so much attention as this, discovery 
must come, and will come, sooner or later. A 
thousand eyes turn at once to explore every 
man, everything, every circumstance, con- 
nected with the time and place ; a thousand 
ears catch every whisper; a thousand excited 
minds intensely dwell on the scene, shedding 
all their light, and ready to kindle the slight- 
est circumstance into a blaze of discovery. 

Meantime, the guilty soul cannot keep its 
own secret. It is false to itself; or rather, it 
feels an irresistible impulse of conscience to 
be true to itself. It labors under its guilty 
possession, and knows not what to do with it. 
The human heart was not made for the resi- 
dence of such an inhabitant. It finds itself 
preyed on by a torment, which it dares not 
acknowledge to God or man. 

A vulture is devouring it, and it can ask no 
assistance, or sympathy, either from heaven, 
or earth. The secret, which the murderer 
possesses, soon comes to possess him ; and, 
like the evil spirits, of which we read, it over- 
comes him, and leads him whithersoever it 
will. He feels it beating at his heart, rising 
to his throat, and demanding disclosure. He 
thinks the whole world sees it in his face, read* 
it in his eyes, and almost hears its workings 
in the very silence of his thoughts. It has 
become his master. 

It betrays his discretion, it breaks down has 
courage, it conquers his prudence. When sus- 
picions from without begin to embarass him, 
and the net of circumstance to entangle him, 
the fatal secret struggles, with still greater vio- 
lence, to burst forth. It must be confessed, it 
will be confessed, there is no refuge from con- 
fession, but suicide, an i suicide is confession. 



252 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



61!l- antonVs ORATION OVER CESAR. 
Friends, Romans, Countrymen! Lend me your 
I come to bury Cesar, not to praise him. [ears, 

riie evil, that men do, lives after them ; 
The good— is oft interred with their bones: 
80, let it be with Cesar ! Noble Brutus 
Hath told you, Cesar was ambitious : 
if it were so, it was a grievous fault ; 
And grievously — hath Cesar answered it. 
Mere, under leave of Brutus, and the rest, 
(For Brutus — is an honorable man, 
So are they all. all honorable men) 

Come I to speak— in Cesar's funeral 

He was my friend, faithful, and just to me : 

But Brutus says — he was ambitious ; 

Ani BiUttus — is an honorable man. 

He hath brought many captives home to Rome, 

Whose ransoms — did the general coffers fill : 

Did this, in Cesar, seem ambitious ? 

When that the poor have cried. Cesar hath wept ; 

Ambition, should be made of sterner stuff; 

Yet Brutus says — he was ambitious; 

And Brutus — is an honorable man. 

You all did see, that, on the Lupercal, 

I thrice presented him — a kingly crown, 

Which he did thrice— refuse ; Was this ambition ? 

Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious ; 

And sure, he is an honorable man. 

I speak not to disprove — what Brutus spoke, 

But here I am, to speak what I do know. 

You all did love him once ; not without cause : 

What cause witholds you, then, to mourn for him! 

O judgment ! thou art fled to brutish beasts, 

And men have lost their reason ! Bear with me : 

My heart is in the coffin there — with Cesar; 

And I must pause, till it come back to me. 

But yesterday, the word of Cesar — might 

Have stood against the world ! now, lies he there, 

And none so poor — to do him reverence. 

masters ! if I were disposed to stir 
Your hearts and minds — to mutiny and rage, 

1 should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong ; 
Who, you all know, are honorable men. 

I will not do them wrong — I rather choose 

To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you, 

Than I will wrong such honorable men. 

But here's a parchment, with the seal of Cesar ; 

I found it in his closet; 'tis his will : 

Let but the commons — hear this testament, 

(VVhich, pardon me, I do not mean to read,) 

And they would go, and kiss dead Cesar's wounds, 

And dip their napkins — in his sacred blood — 

Yea, bee a hair of him, for memory, 

And, dying, mention it within their wills; 

Beqeathing it, as a rich legacy, 

Unto their issue. 

If you have tears, prepare to shed them now 

You all do know this mantle : I remember 

The first time ever Cesar put it on ; 

Twai on a summer's evening, in his tent ; 

That day — he overcome the Nervii 

Look ! in this place— ran Cassius' dagger through 
Bee, what a rent — the envious Casca made : 
Through this, the well beloved Brutus Blabbed, 
And, as he plucked his cursed steel away, 
Mark how the blood of Cesar followed it! 
tfi'-e, was the most unkindest cut of all! 



For when the noble Cesar — saw him stab, 
Ingratitude, more strong than traitors'' arms, 
Quite vanquished him : then, burst — his might% 
And, in his mantle, muffling up his face, [heart', 
Even at the base of Pompey's statue, 
(Which all the while ran blood) great Cesar — fell 

what fall was there; my countrymen! 
Then I, and you, and allot us — fell down, 
Whilst bloody treason — flourished over us. 
O, now you weep : and, 1 perceive, you feel 
The dint of pity : these are gracious drops. 
Kind souls ! what, weep you, when you but behoI4 
Our Cesar's vesture wounded ? Look you here ! 
Here — is himself, — marred, as you see, by traitor* 
Good friends! sweet friends! let me not stir you up 
To such a sudden flood of mutiny. 

They, that have done this deed, are honorable; 
What private griefs they have, alas! I know not, 
That made them do it ; they are wise, and honora- 
And will, no doubt, with reason answer you. [bit-, 

1 come not, friends, to steal away your hearts ; 
J am no orator, as Brutus is ; 

But, as you know me all. a plain — blunt man, 
That love my friend— and that they know full well, 
That gave me public leave, to speak of him. 
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, 
Action, nor utterance, nor power of speech, 
To stir men's blood — I only speak right on : 
I tell you that — which you yourselves do know — 
Show you sweet Cesar's wounds, poor, poor dum* 
And bid tJiem speak for me. [mouths, 

But were I— Brutus, 

And Brutus — Antony, there were an Antony — 
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue 
In every wound of Cesar, that should move 
The stones of Rome — to rise and mutiny. 

613. The Invalid Abroad. It is a sad 
thing, to feel that we must die, away from our 
own home. Tell not the invalid, who is yearn- 
ing after his distant country, that the atmos- 
Ejhere around him is soft, that the gales are fil- 
ed with balm, and that the flowers are spring- 
ing from the green earth ; he knows, that the 
softest air to his heart, would he the air, whicn 
hangs over his native land ; that, more grate- 
fully than all the gales of the south, would 
breathe low whispers of anxious affection , 
that the very icicles, clinging to his own eaves, 
and snow, beating against his own windows, 
would be far more pleasant to his eyes, than 
the bloom and verdure, which only more for- 
cibly remind him, how far he is from that one 
spot, which is dearer to him, than all the 
world beside. He may, indeed, find estimable 
friends, who will do all in their power to pro- 
mote his comfort, and assuage his pains: **** 
they cannot supply the place of the long 
known and long loved ; they cannot read, as 
in a book, the mute language of his face ; they 
have not learned to wait upon his habits, and 
anticipate his wants ; and he has not learned 
to communicate, without hesitation, all his 
wishes, impressions, and thoughts to tnem. 
He feels that he is a stranger ; and a more 
desolate feeling than that, could not visit his 
soul. How much is expressed, by that form 
of oriental benediction, " May you die among 
your kindred." — Greenwood, 
All, who joy would wt'n y 
Must share it,— happiness— was txrn a tunm 
He is unhappy, wno is never satisfied. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



014. The Life of a Drunkard. If you 
»vould mark the misery, which drunkenness 
infuses into the cup of domestic happiness, 
go with me to one of those nurseries of crime, 
a common tippling shop, and there behold, 
collected till midnight, the fathers, the hus- 
bands, the sons, and the brothers of a neigh- 
borhood. Bear witness to the stench, and the 
filthiness around them. Hearken to the oaths, 
the obscenity, and the ferocity of their conver- 
sation. Observe their idiot laugh ; record the 
vulgar jest, with which they are delighted, 
and tell me, v*hat potent sorcery has so trans- 
formed these men, that, for this loathsome 
den, they should forego all the delights of an 
innocent, and lovely fireside. 

But let us follow some of them home, from 
the scene of their debauch. There is a young 
man, whose accent, and gait, and dress, be- 
speak the communion, which he once has 
held, with something better than all this. He 
id an only son. On him, the hopes of parents, 
and of sisters have centred. Every nerve of 
that family has been strained, to give to that 
intellect, of which they all were proud, every 
means of choicest cultivation. They have 
denied themselves, that nothing should be 
wanting, to enable him to enter his profession, 
under every advantage. They gloried in his 
talents, they exulted in the first buddings of 
his youthful promise, and they were looking 
f mvard to the time when every labor should 
be repaid, and every self-denial rewarded, by 
the joys of that hour, when he should stand 
forth in all the blaze of well-earned, and in- 
disputable professional pre-eminence. Alas, 
these visions are less bright than once they 
were ! 

Enter that family circle. Behold those aged 

Earents, surrounded by children, lovely and 
eloved. Within that circle reign peace, vir- 
tue, intelligence, and refinement. The even- 
ing has been spent, in animated discussion, 
in" innocent pleasantry, in the sweet inter- 
change of affectionate endearment. There is 
one, who used to share all this, who was the 
centre of this circle. Why is he not here '.' Do 
professional engagements, of late, so estrange 
him from home '{ The hour of devotion has 
arrived. They kneel before their Father and 
their God. A voice, that used to mingle in 
their praises, is absent. An hour rolls away. 
Where now has all that cheerfulness fled J 
Why does every effort to rally, sink them 
deeper in despondency ! Why do those pa- 
rents look so wistfully around, and why do 
they start at the sound of every footstep! 
Another hour has gone. That lengthened 
peal is too much for a mother's endurance. 
She can conceal the well known cause no 
longer. The unanswered question is wrung 
from her lips. Where, oh where, is my son? 

The step of that son and brother is heard. 
The doer is opened. He staggers in before 
them, and is stretched out at their feet ; in all 
the loat/isonieness of beastly intoxication. 

615. SEBrENT OF THE STILL. 

They tell me— of the Egyptian asp, 

The bite of which— is death; 
The victim, yielding with a gasp, 

His hot, and hurried breath. 
The Egyptian queen, says history, 

The reptile vile applied; 
And in the arms of agony, 

Victoriously died. 



They tell me, that, in Italy, 

There is a reptile dre?d. 
The sting of which— is asjony, 

And dooms the victim dead. 
But, it is said, that music's sound, 

May soothe the poisoireu part, 
Yea, lieal the galling, ghastly wound, 

And save the sinking heait. 
They tell me, too, of serpents vast, 

That crawl on Afric's shore, 
And swallow men — historians paat 

Tell us of one of yore : — 
But there is yet, one, of % kind, 

More fatal — than the whole, 
That stings the body, and the mind, 

Yea, it devours the soul. 
'Tis found almost o'er all the earth, 

Save Turkey's wide domains ; 
And there, if e'er it had a birth, 

Tis kept in mercy's chains. 
Tis found in our own gardens gay, 

In our own flowery fields ; 
Devouring, every passing day, 

Its thousands — at its meals. 
The poisonous venom withers youth, 

Blasts character, and health; 
All sink before it — hope, and truth, 

And comfort, joy, and wealth. 
It is the author, too. of shame; 

And never fails to kill. 
Reader, dost thou desire the name ? 

The Serpent of the Still. 

THE WOELI) AT A DISTAJTCK. 

Tis pleasant — through the loopholes of retreat 
To peep at such a world ; to see the stir 
Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd; 
To hear the roar she sends, through all her gatsa 
At a safe distance, where the dying sound, 
Falls a soft murmur — on the uninjured ear. 
Thus sitting, and surveying, thus at ease, 
The globe, and its concerns, I seem advanced 
To some secure, and more than mortal height, 
That liberates, and exempts me. from them alL 
It turns submitted to my view, turns round 
With all its generations ; I behold 
The tumult, and am still. The sound of war — 
Has lost its terrors, ere it reaches me ; 
Grieves, but alarms me not. I mourn the pride 
And avarice, that make man — a wolf to man; 
Hear the faint echo — of those brazen throats, 
By which he speaks the language of his heart, 
And sigh, but never tremble, at the sound. 

He travels, and expatiates; as the bee, 
From flower to flower, so he — from Jand to land, 
The manners, customs, policy of all, 
Pay contribution — to the store he gleans; 
He sucks intelligence — in every clime, 
And spreads the honey — of his deep research, 
At his return — a rich repast for me. 
He travels, and I too. I tread his deck, 
Ascend his topmast, through his peering eyea 
Discover countries, with a kindred heart 
Suffer his woes, and share in his escapes; 
While fancy, like the finger of a clock, 
Runs the great circuit, and is still at home, 
bad battle temp* hi* foot, and nations feci the shock 



254 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



016. Eulogium on the South. If there be 
one state in the union, Mr. President, (and I say 
it not in a boastful spirit) that may challenge 
comparison w<lh any other, for a uniform, zeal- 
ous, ardent, and uncalculating devotion to the 
union, tkat state — is South Carolina. Sir, from 
the very commencement of the revolution, up to 
this hour, there is no sacrifice, however great, 
6lie has not cheerfully made; no service, she 
has ever hesitated to perform. She has adhered 
to you in your prosperity ; but, in your adversi- 
ty, she has clung to you, with more than filial 
affection. No matter what was the condition of 
her domestic affairs : though deprived of her re- 
sources, divided by parties, or surrounded by 
difficulties, the call of the country, has been to 
her, as the voice of God. Domestic discord 
ceased at the sound, every man became at once 
reconciled to his brethren, and the 30ns of Caro- 
lina were all seen, crowding together :o the tem- 
ple, bringing their gifts to the altar of their com- 
mon country. 

Wnaf, sir, was the conduct of the south during 
the revolution 1 Sir, I honor New England for 
her conduct in that glorious struggle. But, great 
as is the praise, which belongs to her, I think at 
least, equal honor is due to the south. They es- 
poused the quarrel of their brethren, with a 
generous zeal which did not suffer them to stop 
to calculate their interest in the dispute. Favor- 
ites of the mother country, possessed of neither 
■hips, nor seamen, to create commercial rival- 
ship, they might have found, in their situation, 
a guarantee, that their trade would be forever 
fostered, and protected by Great Britain. But, 
trampling on all considerations, either of inter- 
est, or safety, they rushed into the conflict, and, 
fighting for principle, perilled all in the sacred 
cause of freedom. 

Never— were there exhibited, in the history 
of the world, higher examples of noble daring, 
dreadful suffering, and heroic endurance, than 
by the whigs of Carolina, during the revolution. 
The whole state, from the mountains to the sea, 
was overrun by an overwhelming force of the 
enemy. The fruits of industry — perished on the 
spot where they were produced, or were con- 
sumed by the foe. " The plains of Carolina" 
drank up the most precious blood of her citizens! 
Black, and smoking ruins— marked the places 
which had been the habitations of her children ! 
Driven from their homes, into the gloomy, and 
almost impenetrable swamps, even there— the 
spirit of liberty survived ; and South Carolina, 
sustained by the example of her Sumpters, and 
Marions, proved, by her conduct, that though 
her soil might be overrun, the spirit of her peo- 
ple was invincib e. — Hayne. 

617. Eulogii.m on the North. The eulo- 
gium pronounced on the character of the state 
of South Carolina, by the honorable gentleman, 
for her revolutionary, and other merits, meets 
my hearty concurrence. I shall not acknowl- 
edge, that the honorable member is before me,ln 
regard for whatever of distinguished talent, or 
distinguished character, South Carolina has pro- 
luced. 1 claim part of the honor: I partake in 



the pride of her great names. I claim them ft* 
countrymen, one and all — the Laurens, the Rut- 
ledges, the Pinckneys, the Sumpters, the Mari- 
ons — Americans all— whose fame is no more to 
be hemmed in by slate lines, than their talents 
and patriotism, were capable of being circum- 
scribed, wiihin the same narrow limits. 

In their day, and generation, they served, and 
honored the country, and the whole country, and 
their renown is of the treasures of the whole 
country. Him, whose honored name the gentle- 
man himself bears— does he suppose me less ca- 
pable of gratitude for his patriotism, or sympa- 
thy for his sufferings, than if his eyes had first 
opened upon the light in Massachusetts, instead 
of South Carolina 1 Sir, does he suppose it. in 
hi3 power, to exhibit a Carolina name so bright, 
as to produce envy in my bosom ? No, sir, in- 
creased gratification, and delight, rather. Sir, 1 
thank God, that, if I am gifted with little of the 
spirit, which is said to be able to raise mortals to 
the skies, I have yet none, as I trust, of that 
other spirit, which would drag angels down. 

But sir, let me recur to pleasing recollections 
— let me indulge in refreshing remembrances of 
the past — let me remind you. that in early times, 
no states cherished greater harmony, both of 
principle, and of feeling, than Massachusetts and 
South Carolina. Would to God, that harmony 
might again return. Shoulder to shoulder they 
went through the revolution— hand in hand, they 
stood round the administration of Washington, 
and felt his own great arm lean on them for sup- 
port. Unkind feeling, if it exist, alienation and 
distrust, are the growth, unnatural to such soils, 
of false principles since sown. They are weeds, 
the seeds of which that same great arm neve 
scattered. 

Mr. President, I shall enter on no encomium 
upon Massachusetts— she needs none. There 
she is — behold her, and judge for yourselves. 
There is Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, 
and Bunker Hill; and there they will remain, for- 
ever. The bones of her sons, fallen in the great 
struggle for independence, now lie mingled with 
the soil of every state, from New England to 
Georgia ; and there they will lie— forever. 

And, sir, where American liberty raised its 
first, voice, and where its youth was nurtured 
and sustained, there it still lives, in the strength 
of its manhood, and full of its original spirit. If 
discord, and disunion shall wound it— if party 
strife, and blind ambition shall hawk at, ami 
tear it ; if folly and madness, if uneasiness under 
salutary and necessary restraint, shall succeed 
to separate, it from that union by which alone, 
its existence is made sure, it will stand, in the 
end, by the side of that cradle in which its in- 
fancy was rocked ; it will stretch forth its arm, 
with whatever of vigor it may still retain, over 
the friends who gather around it; and it will 
fall at last, if fall it must, amidst the proudest 
monuments of its own glory, and on the very 
spot of its origin.— Wtbster. 

The sweetest cordial— we receive at last, 

Is conscience— of our virtuous actions past. 
Inform yourself, and i istruct others. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



255 



618. Libkktt and Union. I profess,sir, 
tn my career hitherto, to have kept steadily in 
view, the prosperity, and honor of the wliole 
country, and the preservation of our federal 
union. It is to that union, we owe our safety 
at home, and our consideration and dignity 
abroad. It is to that union, that we are chief- 
ly indebted, for whatever makes us most proud 
of our country. That union we reached, only 
by the discipline of our virtues, in the severe 
(school of adversity. It had its origin, in the 
necessities of disordered finance, prostrate 
commerce, and ruined credit. Under its be- 
nign inlluences, these great interests imme- 
diately awoke, as from the dead, and sprang 
forth with newness of life. Every year of its 
duration — has teemed with fresh proofs of its 
utility, and its blessings ; and although our 
territory has stretched out, wider and wider, 
and our population spread farther and farther, 
they have not outrun its protection, or its be- 
nefits. It has been to us all, a copious fountain 
of national, social, and personal happiness. 

I have not allowed myself, sir, to look be- 
yond the union, to see what might lie hidden 
m the dark recess behind, i" have not coolly 
weighed the chances of preserving liberty, 
when the bonds, that unite us together, shall 
be broken asunder. I have not accustomed 
myself — to hang over the precipice of dis- 
union, to see whether, with my snort sight, I 
can fathom — the depth — of the abyss — below,- 
nor could I regard him, as a safe counsellor in 
the affairs of mis government, whose thoughts 
should be mainly bent on considering, not 
how the union should be preserved, but, how 
tolerable might be the condition of the people, 
when it shall be broken up, and destroyed. 

While the union lasts,v?e have high, excit- 
ing, gratifying prospects spread out before 
us, for us, and our children. Beyond that, I 
seek not to penetrate the vail. God grant, 
that, in my day, at least, that curtain may not 
rise. God grant, that on my vision, never 
may be opened what lies behind. When my 
eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last 
time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him 
shining on the broken, and dishonored frag- 
ments of a once glorious union ; on states 
dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; on a land, 
rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, 
in fraternal blood ! Let their last feeble and 
lingering glance, rather, behold the gorgeous 
ensign of the republic, now known, and hon- 
ored, throughout the earth, still full high ad- 
vanced, its arms and trophies — streaming in 
their original lustre, not a stripe erased, or 
polluted, nor a single star obscured — bearing 
for its motto, no such miserable interrogatory 
as — What is all this worth ? Nor those other 
words of delusion and folly — Liberty — first, 
and union — afterwards — but cum/where, 
■prcad all over in characters of living light, 
blaring on all its ample folds, as they float 
oyer the sea, and over the land, and in every 
wind under the whole heavens, that other 
sentiment, dear to every — true — American 
heart — Liberty and union, now, and forever, 
one — and inseparable ! — Webster. 

619. MOONLIGHT, AND A BATTLE-FIELD. 

How beautiful this night! the balmiest sigh, 
Which vernal zephyrs breathe, in Evening's ear, 
Were discord, to the speaking quietude, [vault, 
That wraps this moveless scene. Heaven's ebon 
budded with stars unutterably bright, 
riiro' which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls, 



Seems like a canopy, which Love hath spread. 
To curtain her sleeping world. Yon gentle hill*. 
Robed in a garment of untrodden snow; 
Yon darksome rocks, whence icicles depend. 
So stainless, that their white and glittering spires 
Tinge not the moon's pure beam ; yon castl'd steep, 
Whose banner nangeth o'er the time-worn tower, 
So idly, that rapt fancy, deemeth it 
A metaphor of peace ; — all form a scene, 
Where musing Solitude might love to lift 
Her soul, above this sphere of earthlines*. 
Where Silence, undisturbed, might watch alone, 
So cold, so bright, so still ! 

The orb of day, 
In southern climes, o'er ocean's wavolcss field, 
Sinks, sweetly smiling: not the faintest breath 
Steals o'er the unruffled deep ; the clouds of eve 
Reflect, unmoved, the lingering beam of day; 
And Vesper's image, on the western main, 
Is beautifully still. To-morrow comes : 
Cloud upon cloud, in dark and deepening mass, 
Roll o'er the blackened waters ; the deep roar 
Of distant thunder mutters awfully; 
Tempest unfolds its pinions, o'er the gloom, 
That shrouds the boiling surge ; the pitiless fiend, 
With all his winds, and lightnings, tracks his prey; 
The torn deep yawns — the vessel finds a grave 
Beneath its jagged gulf. 

Ah ! whence yon glare 
That firesthe arch of heaven? that dark red smoke, 
Blotting the silver moon ? The stars are quenched 
In darkness, and the pure spangling snow 
Gleams, faintly, thro' the gloom, that gathers round! 
Hark to that roar, whose swift and deafening peals, 
In countless echoes through the mountains ring, 
Startling pale Midnight, on her starry throne ! 
Now swells the intermingling din; the jar, 
Frequent, and frightful, of the bursting boml ; 
The falling beam, the shriek, the groan, the shout, 
The ceaseless clangor, and the rush of men 
Inebriate with rage ! — loud and more loud, 
The discord grows; till pale Death shuts the scene, 
And, o'er the conqueror, and the conquered, draws 
His cold, and bloody shroud. Of all the men, 
Whom day's departing beam saw blooming there, 
In proud, and vigorous health — of all the hearts, 
That beat with anxious life, at sunset there — 
How few survive, how few are beating now! 
All is deep silence, like the fearful calm, 
That slumbers in the storm's portentous pause ; 
Save when the frantic wail of widowed love 
Comes, shuddering, on the blast, or the faint moan, 
With which some soul bursts from the frame of clay 
Wrapped round its struggling powers. 

The gray morn [smoke. 
Dawns on the mournful scene; the sulphurous 
Before the icy wind, slow rolls away, 
And the bright beams of frosty morning dance 
Along the spangling saow. There, tracks of blood. 
Even to the forest's depth, and scattered arms, 
And lifeless warriors, whose hard lineaments 
Death's self could change not, mark the dreadful 
Of the out-sallying victors : far behind, [path 

Black ashes note, where their proud city stood. 
Within yon forest, is a glooomy glen — 
Each tree, which guards its darkness from the day 
Waves o'er a warrior's tomb. — Shelly. 



£58 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



©20. Goodness of God. The light of 
twture, the works of creation, the general 
consent of nations, in harmony with divine 
revelation, attest the being, the perfections, 
and the providence of God. Whatever cause 
we have, to lament the frequent inconsisten- 
cy of human conduct, with this belief, yet an 
avowed atheist is a monster, that rarely 
makes his appearance. God's government 
of the affairs of the universe, an acknowl- 
edgment of his active, superintending provi- 
dence, over that portion of it, which consti- 
tutes the globe we inhabit, is rejected, at least 
theoretically, by very few. 

That a superior, invisible power, is contin- 
ually employed in managing and controlling 
by secret, imperceptible, irresistible means, 
all the transactions of the world, is so often 
manifested in the disappointment, as well as 
in the success of our plans, that blind and 
depraved must our minds be, to deny, what 
every day's transactions so fully prove. The 
excellence of the divine character, especially 
in the exercise of that goodness towards his 
creatures, which is seen in the dispensation 
of their daily benefits, and in overruling oc- 
curring events, to the increase of their happi- 
ness, is equally obvious. 

Do we desire evidence of these things'? 
Who is without them, in the experience of 
his own life 1 Who has not reason, to thank 
God for the success, which has attended his 
exertions in the world '.' W'ho has not reason 
to thank him, for defeating plans, the accom- 
plishment of which, it has been afterwards 
seen, would have resulted in injury, or ruin 1 
Who has not cause, to present him the unaf- 
fected homage of a grateful heart, for the con- 
sequences of events, apparently the most un- 
propitious, and for his unquestionable kind- 
ness, in the daily supply of needful mercies '! 

PROGRESS OF LIBERTY. 

Why muse 
Upon the past, with sorrow ? Though the year 
Has gone, to blend with the mysterious tide 
Of old Eternity, and borne along, 
Upon its heaving breast, a thousand wrecks 
Of glory', and of beauty, — yet why mourn, 
That such is destiny? Another year 
Succeedeth to the past, — in their bright round, 
The seasons come, and go, — the same blue arch, 
That hath hung o'er us, will hang o'er us yet, — 
The same pure stars, that we have loved to watch, 
Will blossom still, at twilight's gentle hour, 
Like lilies, on the tomb of Day, — and still, 
Man will remain, to dream, as he hath dreamed, 
And mark the earth with passion. Love will spring 
From the tomb of old Affections,— Hope, 
And Joy, and great Ambition— will rise up, 
As they have risen, — and their deeds will be 
Brighter, than those engraven on the scroll — 
Of parted centuries. Even now, the sea 
Of coming years, beneath whose mighty wares, 
Life's great events are heaving into birth, 
Is tossing to and fro, as if the winds 
Of heaven were prisoned in its soundless depths, 
A.nd struggling to be free. 
As Rome tall cliff', that lifts its awful/orm, 
6 uvells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, 
T'ho' round its braast, the rolling clouds are spread, 
Eternal sunshine — settles on its head. 
What m fame? \fanc\fd life in others 1 breath. 



THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 
How dear to this heart — are the scenes of my childhooa. 

When fond recollection — presents them to view ! 
The orcliard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wild- wood, 

And every loved spot, which my infancy knew ; 
The wide-spreading pond, and the mill which stood by it 

The bridge, and the rock, where the cataract fell ; 
The cot of my father, the dairy house— nigh it, 

And e'en the rude bucket, which hung in the well ! 
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, 
The r?uw-covered bucket, which hung in the well. 
That moss-covered vessel — I hail as a treasure ; 

For often at noon, when returned from the field, 
I found it — the source of an exquisite pleasure, 

The purest, and sweetest, that nature can yield. 
How ardent I seized it, w ith hands that were glowing t 

And quick — to the white-pebbled bottom it fell ; 
Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing, 

And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well ; 
The old oaken bucket, the t'ron-bound bucket, 
The mws-covered bucket — arose from the well. 
How sweet— from the green — mossy brim — to receive it, 

As poised on the curb — it inclined to my lips ! 
Not a full blushing goblet— could tempt me to leave it, 

Though AUed with the nectar, that Jupiter sips. 
And now, far removed — from the lov'd situation, 

The tear of regret will intrusively swell, 
As fancy — reverts to my father's plantation, 

And sighs for the bucket, which hangs iu Uie well ; 
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, 
The mow-covered bucket, which liangs in the well. 

621. Right of Free Discussion. Im- 
portant, as I deem it, to discuss, on all prop- 
er occasions, the policy of the measures, at 
present pursued, it is still more important 
to maintain the right of such discussion, in 
its full, and just extent. Sentiments, lately 
sprung up, and now growing fashionable, 
make it necessary to be explicit on this point. 
The more I perceive a disposition — to check 
the freedom of inquiry, by extravagant, and 
unconstitutional pretences, the firmer shall 
be the tone, in which I shall assert, and the 
freer the manner, in which I shall exercise it. 

It is the ancient and undoubted preroga- 
tive of this people — to canvass public meas- 
ures, and the merits of public men. It is a 
"home bred right," a fireside privilege. It 
hath ever been enjoyed in every house, cot- 
tage, and cabin, in the nation. It is not to be 
drawn into controversy. It is as undoubted, 
as the right of breathing the air, or walking 
on the earth. Belonging to private life, as-a 
right, it belongs to public life, as a duty ,• and 
it is the last duty which those, whose repre- 
sentative I am, shall find me to abandon. 
Aiming, at all times, to be courteous, and 
temperate in its use, except, when the right 
itself shall be questioned, I shall then carry 
it to its extent. I shall place myself on the 
extreme boundary of my right, and bid de- 
fiance to any arm, that would move me from 
mv ground. 

This high, constitutional privilege, I shall 
defend, and exercise, ivithin this house, and 
without this house, and in all places; in time 
of peace, and in all times. Living, I shall 
assert it ; and, should I leave no other inheri- 
tance to my children, by the blessing of God, 
I will leave them the inheritance of free prin- 
ciples, and the example of a manly, inde- 
pendent, and constitutional defence of them 

Grasp the whole world of reason, life, ani uns^ 
In one close system of benevolence ; 
Happier, as kindlier, in whatever degree, 
A height of bliss— is height of charity. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



287 



68». Peace and War Contrasted. 
The morality of peaceful times — is directly 
opposite to the maxims of war. The funda- 
mental rule of the first is — to do good; of the 
latter, to inflict injuries. The former — com- 
mands us to succor the oppressed ; the latter 
to overwhelm the defenceless. The former 
teaches men to love their enemies; the latter, 
to make themselves terrible to strangers. 

The rules of morality — will not suffer us to 
promote the dearest interest, by falsehood; 
the maxims of war applaud it, when employ- 
ed in the destruction of others. That a famil- 
iarity with such maxims, must tend to harden 
the heart, as well as to pervert the moral sen- 
timents, is too obvious to need illustration. 

The natural consequence of their preva- 
ence is — an unfeeling, and unprincipled am- 
bition, with an idolatry of talents, and a con- 
tempt of virtue ; whence the esteem of man- 
kind is turned from the humble, the beneficent, 
and the good, to men who are qualified, by a 
genius, fertile in expedients, a courage, that 
is never appalled, and a heart, that never pit- 
ies, to become the destroyers of the earth. 

While the philanthropist is devising means 
to mitigate the evils, and augment the happi- 
ness of the world, a fellow-worker together 
with God, in exploring, and giving effect to 
the benevolent tendencies of nature; the 
warrior — is revolving, in the gloomy recesses 
of his capacious mind, plans of future devast- 
ation and ruin. 

Prisons, crowded with captives; cities, emp- 
tied of their inhabitants ; fields, desolate and 
waste, are among his proudest trophies. The 
fabric of wis fame is cemented with tears and 
blood ; and if his name is wafted to the ends 
of the earth % it is in the shrill cry of suffering 
humanity; in the curses and imprecations 
of those whom liis sword has reduced to des- 
pair. 

623. IMMORTAL MIND. 

When coldness — wraps this suffering clay, 

Ah, whither — strays the immortal mind? 
It cannot die, it cannot stay, 

But leaves its darkened dust behind. 
Then, unembodied, doth it trace, 

By steps, each planet's heavenly way? 
Or fill, at once, the realms of space, 

A thing' o/eyes, that all survey? 

Eternal, boundless, undecayed, 

A thought unseen, but seeing all, 
All, all in earth, or skies displayed, 

Shall it survey, shall it recall; 
Each fainter trace, that memory holds, 

So darkly — of departed years, 
In one broad glance— the soul beholds, 

And all, that was, at once appears. 

Before creation peopled earth, 

Its eye shall roll— through chaos back ; 
And where the farthest heaven had birth, 

The spirit trace its rising track. 
And where the future mars, or makes, 

Its glance, dilate o'er all to be, 
While sun is quenched, or system breaks ; 

Fixed— in its own eternity. 
Al>ove all love, hope, hate, or fear, 

It lives all passionless, and pure ; 
An age shall fleet, like earthly year; 

Its ysars, as moments, shall exdure 

B EON SON. 17 



Away, away, without a wing, 

O'er all, through all, its thought* shall fly; 
A nameless, and eternal thing, 

Forgetting— what it was to die. — Byron. 

Genuine Taste. To the eye of taste, each 
season of the year has its peculiar beauties 
nor does the venerable oak, when fringed with 
the hoary ornaments of winter, afford a pros- 

Sect, less various, or delightful, than, when 
ecked in the most luxuriant foliage. Is, then, 
the winter of life — connected with no associa- 
tions, but those of horror '! This can never 
be the case, until ideas of contempt — are asso- 
ciated with ideas of wisdom, ana experience; 
associations, which the cultivation of true 
taste — would effectually prevent. Suppose 
the person, who wishes to improve on na- 
ture's plan, should apply to the artificial florist 
to deck the bare boughs of his spreading oak 
with ever-blooming roses; would it not be 
soon discovered, that, in deserting nature, he 
had deserted taste .' It should be remembered, 
that the coloring of nature, whether in the ani- 
mate, or inanimate creation, never fails to har- 
monize with the object ; that lier most beauti- 
ful hues are often transient, and excite a more 
lively emotion from that very circumstance. 
624. gambler's wife. 

Dark is the night ! How dark ! No light ! No fir* ! 

Cold, on the hearth, the last faint sparks expire ! 

Shivering, she watches, by the cradle side, 

For him, who pledged her love — last year a bride! 

« Hark ! 'Tis his footstep ! No !— 'Tis past !— 'Tis gone t" 

Tick !— Tick !— " How wearily the time crawls on ! 

Why should he leave me thus ? — He once was kind ! 

And I believed 't would last ! — How mad ! — How blind ! 

"Rest thee, my babe ! — Rest on ! — 'Tis hunger's cry ! 

Sleep ! — For there is no food ! — The font is dry ! 

Famine, and cold their wearying work have done. 

My heart must break ! And thou !" The clock strikes or«. 

"Hush! 'tis the dice-box 1 Yes! he H there! he's there! 

For this ! — for this he leaves me to despair ! 

Leaves love! leaves truth! his wife! his child! for what? 

The wanton's smile — the villain — and the sot ! 

"Yet I'll not curse him. No ! 'tis all in vain! 

'Tis long to wait, but sure he'll come again ! 

And I could starve, and bless him, but for you, 

My child ! — his child! Oh, fiend !" The clock strikes tiro. 

" Hark ! How the sign-board creaks ! The blast howls by. 

Moan! moan! A dirge swells through the cloudy sky! 

Ha ! 'tis his knock ! he comes ! — he comes once more !" 

'Tis but the lattice flaps ! Thy hope is o'er ! 

" Can he desert us thus ! He knows I stay, 

Night after night„in loneliness, to pray 

For his return — and yet he sees no tear! 

No ! no ! It cannot be ! He will be here ! 

"Ne«tle more closely, dear one, to my heart ! 

Thou'rt cold ! Thou'rt freezing ! But we will not part ! 

Husband ! — I die ! — Father !— It is not he ! 

Oh, God ! protect my child '." The clock strikes three. 

They're gone, they're gone ! the glimmering spark hath fled 1— 

The wife, and child, are number'd with the dead. 

On the cold earth, outstretched in solemn rest, 

The babe lar, frozen on its mother's breast : 

The gambler «me at last — but all was o'er — ■ > 

Dread silence reign'd around:— the clock struck four !— CocafJt 
Goodness — is only greatness m itself, 

It rests not on externals, nor its worth 
Derives— from gorgeous pomp, or glittering pe \ 

Or chance of arms, or accident of birth j 
It lays its foundations in the soul, 

And piles a tower of virtue to the skies, 
I round whose pinnacle— majestic — roll 
The clouds of glory, slarr'd with angel ej^s 



458 



READINGS AND RECITATION: 



633. DARKNIMS. 

i had a dream, whicli was not nil a dream, 
fhe bright sun was extinguished, and ihe stars 
Did wander, darkling, in the eternal space, 
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth 
Swung blind, and blackening, in t lie moonless air ; 
Morn came, and went — and came and i.ro't no 
And men forgot their passions, in the dread [day ; 
Of this their desolation ; and all hearts 
Were chilled— into a selfish prayer for light : 
And they did live by watch-fires; and the thrones, 
The palaces of crowned kings, the huts, 
The habitations of all things, which dwell,— 
Were burnt for beacons ; cities were consumed, 
And men w're gather'd rounu their blazing homes, 
To look once more into each oiher's face : 
Happy were those who dwelt within the eye 
Of the volcanoes, and their mountain torch. 

A fearful hope— was all— the world contained: 
Forests were set on fire ; but. hour by hour, 
They fell, and faded, and the crackling trunks 
Extinguished with a crash, and all was black. 
The brows of men, by the despairing light, 
Wore an unearthly aspect, as, by fits, 
The flashes fell upon them. Some lay down, 
And hid their eyes, and wept ; and some did rest 
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smil'd; 
And others hurried to and fro, and fed 
Their funeral piles with fuel, and looked up, 
With mad disquietude, on the dull sky, 
The pall of a past world ; and then again, 
With curses, cast them down upon the dust, 
And gnashed their teeth, and howled. The wild 

birds shrieked, 
And, terrified, did flutter on the ground, 
And flap their useless wings : the wildest brutes 
Came tame, and tremulous ; and vipers crawled 
And twined themselves among the multitude, 
Hissing, but stingless — they were slain for food. 

And War, which for a moment was no more, 
Did glut himself again— a meal was bought 
With blood, and each sat sullenly apart, 
Gorging himself in gloom : no love was left; 
All earth was but one thought — and that was 
Immediate and inglorious ; and men [death, 
Died, an. their bones mere as tombiess as their 
The meagre 'ly the meagre were devoured; [flesh: 
Even dogs trailed their masters— all save one, 
And he was faithful to a corse, and kept 
The birds, and beasts, and famished men, at bay, 
Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead 
Lured their lank jaws ; himself, sought out no 
But, with a piteous, and perpetual moan, [food, 
And a quick, desolate ( ry, licking the hand 
Which answered not with a caress — he died. 

The crowd was famished by degress : but two 
Of an enormous city did survive, 
And they were enemies ; they met beside 
The dying embers — of an altar-place, 
Where ha J been heaped a mass of holy things, 
For an unholy usage ; they raked up, [hands, 
And, shivering, scraped, with their cold, skeleton 
The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath 
Blew for a little life, and made a flame, 
Which was a mockery; then they lifted 
Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld 
Each other's aspects; saw, and shriek'd, and died, 



Evennfthrir mutual hideousness they died. 
Unknowing who he was, upon whose brow — 
Famine 1i;mJ written fiend. The world was voH 
The populous, and the powerful was a lump— 
Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless ' 
A lump of death — a chaos of hard clay. 
The rivers, lakes, and ocean, all stood still, 
And nothing stirred, within their silent depths 
Ships, sailorless, lay rotting on the sea, [dropped, 
And their masts fell down piecemeal ; as thef 
They slept, on the abyss, without a surge : 
The waves were dead; the tides were in tlieJj 

grave; 
The moon, their mistress, had expired before ; 
The winds were withered in the stagnant air, 
And the clouds perished ; Darkness had no need 
Of aid from them ; she— was the universe. — By'n. 
626. True Pleasure Defined. We 
are alFected with delightful sensations, when 
we see the inanimate parts of the creation, 
the meadows, flowers, and trees, in a flour- 
ishing state. There must be some rooted 
melancholy at the heart, when all nature ap- 
pears smiling about us, to hinder us from 
corresponding with the rest of the creation, 
and joining in the universal chorus of joyl 
But if meadows and trees, in their cheerful 
verdure, if flowers, in their bloom, and all the 
vegetable parts of the creation, in their most 
advantageous dress, can inspire gladness ink: 
the heart, and drive away all sadness but de- 
spair ; to see the rational creation happy, and 
flourishing, ought to give us a pleasure as 
much superior, as the latter is to the former, 
in the scale of being. But the pleasure ia 
still heightened, if we ourselves have been in- 
strumental, in contributing to the happiness 
of our fellow-creatures, if we have helped to 
raise a heart, drooping beneath the weight of 
grief, and revived that barren and dry land, 
where no water was, with refreshing showers 
of love and kindness. 

THE WILDERNESS OF MIND. 

There is a wilderness, more dark 

Than groves of fir — on Huron's shore ; 
And in that cheerless region, hark! 

How serpents hiss! how monsters roart 
'Tis not among the untrodden isles, 

Of vast Superior's stormy lake, 
Where social comfort never smiles, 

Nor sunbeams — pierce the tangled brake 
Nor, is it in the deepest shade, 

Of India's tiger-haunted wood ; 
Nor western forests, unsurvey'd, 

Where crouching panthers — lurk for blood, 
'Tis in the dark, uncultur'd soul, 

By education unrefin'd — 
Where hissing Malice, Vices foul, 
And all the hateful Passions prow — 

The frightful Wilderness of Mind. 
Were man 
But constant, he were perfect ; that one error— 
Fills him with faults ; makes him run through &! 

sins; 
Inconstancy — falls off— ere it begins. 
Vice is a monster of such hateful mien. 
That, to be hated— needs but to be eeer ; 
Yet, seen too oft— familiar with her face, 
We first endure, then pity, then embrace 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



259 



637. Gkkics. The favorite idea of a ge- 
nius among us, is of one, who never studies, 
or who studies nobody can tell when ; at mid- 
night, or at odd times, and intervals, and now 
and then strikes out, " at a heat," as the phrase 
is, some wonderful production. This is a 
character that has figured largely in the his- 
tory of our literature, in the person of our 
Fieldings, our Savages, and our Steeles; 
" loose fellows about town, or loungers in the 
country," who slept in ale-houses, and wrote 
in bar-rooms ; who took up the pen as a ma- 
gician's wand, to supply their wants, and, 
when the pressure of necessity was relieved, 
resorted again to their carousals. Your real 
genius is an idle, irregular, vagabond sort of 
personage; who muses in the fields, or dreams 
by the fireside : wnose strong impulses — that 
is the cant ot it— must needs hurry him into 
wild irregularities or foolish eccentricity; 
who abhors order, and can bear no restraint, 
and eschews all iat)or; such a one as Newton 
or Milton ! What ! they must have been ir- 
regular, else they were no geniuses. ■ The 
young man," it is often said, " has genius 
enough, if he would only study." Now, the 
trutlTis, as I shall take the liberty to state it, 
that the genius will study ; it is that in the 
mind winch does study : that is the very na- 
ture of it I care not to say, that it will al- 
ways use books. All study is not reading, 
any more than all reading is study. 

Attention it is, though other qu ah ties belong 
to this transcendent power, — attention it is, 
that is the very soul of genius ; not the fixed 
eye, not the poring over a book, but the fixed 
thought. It is. in'fact, an action of the mind, 
which is steadily concentrated upon one idea, 
or one series of ideas, which collects, in one 
point, the rays of the soul, till they search, 
penetrate and fire the whole train of its 
thoushts. And while the fire bums within, 
the outside may be indeed cold, indifferent, 
negligent, absent in appearance ; he may be 
an idler, or a wanderer, apparently without 
aim, or intent; but still the fire bums within. 
And what though " it bursts forth/' at length, 
as has been said, u like volcanic fires, with 
spontaneous, original, native force V It only 
6hows the intense action of the elements be- 
neath. What though it breaks forth — like 
lightning from the cloud 1 The electric fire 
had been collecting in the firmament, through 
many a silent, clear, and calm day. What 
though the might of genius appears in one 
decisive blow, struck in some moment of high 
debate, or at the crisis of a nation's peril! 
That mighty energy, though it may have 
heaved in the breast of Demosthenes, was 
once a feeble infant thought. A mother's eye 
watched over its dawnings. A father's care 
guarded its early youth. It soon trod, with 
youthful steps, the halls of learning, and 
found other fathers to wake, and to watch for 
it, even as it finds them here. It went on ; 
but silence was upon its path, and the deep 
stragglings of the inward soul silently minis- 
tered to it The elements around breathed 
upon it, and "touched it to finer issues." 
The golden ray of heaven fell upon it, and 
ripened its expanding faculties. The slow 
revolutions of years slowly added to its col- 
lected energies and treasures; till, in its hour 
of glory, it stood forth imbodied in the form 
gf living, commanding, irresistible eloquence. 
TLe world wonders at the manifestation, and 
says, u St ange, strange that it should come 



thus unsought, unpremeditated, unprepar'd .* 
But the truth is, there is no more a miracle in 
it than there is in the towering of the pre- 
eminent forest-tree, or in the flowing of the 
mighty, and irresistible river, or in the wealth, 
and waving of the boundless harvest.— Dewey. 

628. THE THREE BLACK CROWS. 

Two honest tradesmen- — meeting in the Strand, 

One, took the other, briskly by the hand ; 

'• Hark ye" said ht. '• 'tis an odd story this, 

About the crows'." — "I don't know what it is* 

Replied bis friend. — "No! I'm surprised ut lh«». 

Where I come from it is the common chai • 

But you shall hear: an odd aifair indeei' ' 

And that it happened, they are all agreed 

Not to detain you from a thing so strange, 

A gentleman, that lives not far from "Change, 

This week, in short, as all the alley knows. 

Taking a puke, has thrown up three black crows. r - 

" Impossible !" — "Nay, but its really true, 

I had it from good hands, and so may you." 

•' From whose. I pray?" So, having named the man, 

Straight to inquire — his curious comrade ran. 

" Sir, did you tell "—relating the affair— 

" Yes, sir, I did ; and if its worth your care, 

Ask Mr. Such-a-one, he told it me; 

But, by the by. ; twas two black crows, not three."* 

Resolved to trace so wondrous an event, 

Whip to the third, the virtuoso went. [faet, 

"Sir," — and so forth— " Why, yes; the thing's a 

Though, in regard to number, not exact; 

It was not two black crows, 'twas only one; 

The truth of that, you may depend upon, 

The gentleman himself told me the case., [place " 

-Where may I find him?*' "Why. — in such a 

Away he goes, and, having found him out, — 

" Sir, be so good as to resolve a doubt." 

Then, to his last informant, he referred. 

And begged to know if true, what he had "icari 

u Did you, sir, throw up a black crow ?" B Not I !* 

'• Bless me ! how people propagate a lie ! r one. 

Black crows have been thrown up, three, two, and 

And here I find, at last, all comes to none ! 

Did you say nothing of a crow at all ?" 

'• Crow — crow — perhaps I might, now I recall 

The matter over." <: And pray, sir, what was : t ?*' 

- Why. I was horrid sick. and. at the laet, 

I did throw up, and told my neighbor so, 

Something that was as black, sir, as a crow." 

The Highest Occupation- of Genius. T<j 
diffuse useful information, to farther intellec- 
tual refinement, sure forerunners of moral im- 
provement, to hasten the coming of that bright 
day, when the dawn of general knowledge 
shall chase away the lazy, lingering mists, 
even from the base of the great social pyramid ; 
this, indeed, is a high calling, in which the most 
splendid talents and consummate virtue may 
well press onward, eager to bear a part. 

How soon — time — flies away! yet. as I watch It, 
Methinks, by the slow progress of this hand, 
1 should have liv'd an age — since yesterday, 
And have an age to live. Still, on it creeps, 
Each little moment at another's heels, 
Of such small parts as these, and men "ook back, 
Worn and bewildered, wondering — how it is. 
Thou travel'st— like a ship, in the wide ocean. 
Which hath nobotinding shore to mark hsprogreu 
O time ! ere long. I shall have di ne with tie*. 



260 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS 



6S9. 1 /.rui's Victory. Were anything 
wanting, to perpetuate the fame of tins vic- 
tory, it would be sulhciently memorable, from 
the scene where it was fought. This war has 
oeen distinguished, by new and peculiar char- 
acteristics. Naval warfare has been carried 
into the interior of a continent, and navies, 
as »f by magic, launched from among the 
depths cf the forest ! The bosom of peace- 
ful lakes, which, but a short time since, were 
scarcely navigated by man, except to be 
skimmed by the light canoe of the savage, 
have ah at once been ploughed by hostile 
ships. The vast silence, that had reigned, 
far ages, on these mighty waters, was broken 
by the thunder of artillery, and the affrighted 
savage — stared, with amazement, from his 
covert, at the sudden apparition of a sea- 
fight, amid the solitudes of the wilderness. 

The peal of war has once sounded on that 
.ake, but probably, will never sound again. 
The last roar of cannon, that died along her 
shores, was the expiring note of British dom- 
ination. Those vast, eternal seas wdl, per- 
haps, never again be the separating space, 
between contending nations ; but will be em- 
bosomed — within a mighty empire ; and this 
victory, which decided their fate, will stand 
unrivalled, and alone, deriving lustre, and 
perpetuity, from its singleness. 

In future times, when the shores of Erie shall 
hum with a busy population ; when towns, 
and cities, shall brighten, where now, ex- 
tend the dark tangled forest ; when ports shall 
spread their arms, and lofty barks shall ride, 
where now the canoe is fastened to the stake ; 
when the present age shall have grown into 
venerable antiquity, and the mists of fable 
begin to gather round its history, then, will 
the inhabitants of Canada look back to this 
battle we record, as one of the romantic 
achievements of the days of yore. It will 
stand first on the page of their local legends, 
and in the marvellous tales of the borders. 
Tue fisherman, as he loiters along the beach, 
will point to some half-buried cannon, corro- 
ded with the rust of time, and will speak of 
ocean warriors, that came from the shores of 
the Atlantic ; while the boatman, as he trims 
his sail to the breeze, will chant, in rude dit- 
ties, the name of Perry, the early hero of 
Lake Erie. — Irving. 

THE SLANDERER. 

Twas Slander, filled her mouth, with lying words, 
Slander, the foulest whelp of Sin. The man, 
In whom this spirit entered, was undone. 
His tongue — was set on fire of hell, his heart — 
Wa« blaek as death, his legs were faint with haste 
T« propagate the lie, his soul had framed. 
Ilia pillow — was the peace of families 
I>estroyed,the sigh of innocence reproached, 
Broken friendships, and the strife of brotherhoods ; 
Yet did he spare his sleep, and hear the clock 
Number the midnight watches, on his bed, 
Devising mischief more ; and early rose, 
And made no**, hellish meals of good men's names. 
From door to door, you might have seen him speed, 
Or, placed amidst 3 group of gaping fools, 
And whispering in their ears, with his foul lips; 
i'eace fled the neighborhood, in which he made 
His haunts; and, like a moral pestilence, 
Uefore his breath— the healthy shoots and blooms 
Of social joy and happiness, decayed. 
Foots ouly, in his oompany were seen, 



And those, forsaken of God, and tothemsdre ft* 
The prudent shunned him, and his house, [en up 
As one, .who had a deadly moral plague ; 
And fain all would have shunned him, it the *s.y 
Of judgment ; but in vain. All, who g ive ear, 
With greediness, or, wittingly, their tongues 
Made herald to his lies, around him wailed; 
While on his face, thrown back by injured m"n 
In characters of ever-blushing sham?, 
Appeared ten thousand slanders, all his own. 

630. True Friendship. Damon and Py- 
thias, of the Pythagorean sect in philosophy, 
lived in the time of Dionysius, the tyrant or 
Sicily. Their mutual friendship was so 
strong, that they were ready to die for one 
another. One of the two, (for it is not kn< wn 
which,) being condemned to death, by the ty- 
rant, obtained leave to go into his own coun- 
try, to settle his affairs, on condition, th it the 
other should consent to be imprisoned n his 
stead, and put to death for him, if he did not 
return, before the day of execution. The at- 
tention of every one, and especially of the ty- 
rant himself, was excited to the highest pitch- 
as every body was curious, to see what would 
be the event of so strange an affair. Whom 
the time was almost elapsed, and he whowa* 
gone did not appear ; the rashness of the otb 
er, whose sanguine friendship had put hii> 
upon running so seemingly desperate a haz 
ard, was universally blamed. But he still de 
clared, that he had not the least shadow of 
doubt in his mind, of his friend's fidelity. Tin 
event showed how well he knew him. He 
came in due time, and surrendered himself U 
that fate, which he had no reason to think ht 
should escape ; and which he did not desire 
to escape, by leaving his friend to suffer in 
his place. Such fidelity softened, even th« 
savage heart of Dionysius himself. He pan 
doned the condemned; he gave the twi 
friends to one another, and begged that the) 
would take himself in for a third. 

THE CORAL GROVE. 

Deep — in the wave, is a coral grove, 
Where the purple mullet, and gold-fish rove, 
Where the sea-flower — spreads its leaves of bine 
That never are wet, with fallen dew, 
But in bright and changeful beauty shine, 
Far down in the green, and glassy brine. 
The floor is of sand, like the mountain drift, 

And the pearl-shells spangle the flinty snow ; 
From coral rocks the sea-plants lift 

Their bows, where the tides and billows flow; 
The water is calm and still below, 

For the winds and the waves are absent there, 
And the sands— are bright »as the stars, that glow 

In the motionless fields of upper air : 
There, with its waving blade of green, 

The sea-flag streams through the silent water, 
And the crimson leaf of the pulse is seen 

To blush, like a banner, bathed in slaughter: 
There, with a light and easy motion, 

The fin-coral sweeps through the clear deep sec| 
And the yellow and scarlet tufts of oce*n, 

Are bending like corn, on the upland lea : 
And life, in rare and beautiful forms, 

Is sporting amid those bowers of stone, 
And is safe, when the wrathful Spirit of storms. 

Has made the top of the waves his own. 
Pride goeth before destruction. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



2CI 



©31. Brutus' Harangue on Cesar's 
Death. Romans, countrymen, and lovers! 
hear me — for my cause; and be silent, that 
you may hear. Believe me — for mine honor ; 
and have respect to mine honor, that you may 
believe. Censure me in your wisdom; and 
awake your senses, that you may the better 
judge. If there be any, in this assembly, any 
dear friend of Cesar's, to him I say that Bru- 
tus' love to Cesar — was no less than his. If, 
then, that friend demand, why Brutus — rose 
against Cesar, this is my answer : Not that I 
loved Cesar — less, but, that I loved Rome 
more. Had you rath<«- Cesar were living, and 
die all slaves; than that Cesar were dead, to 
live all freemen ? As Cesar loved me, I weep 
for him ; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it ; 
as he was valiant, I honor him ; but, as he 
was ambitious, I slew him. There are tears 
for his love, joy — for his fortune, honor — for 
his valor, and death — for his ambition. Who's 
here so base, that would be a bondman '{ if 
any, speak; for him — have I offended. Who's 
here so rude, that would not be a Roman 1 if 
any, speak I for him — have I offended. Who's 
here so vile, that will not love his country ] if 

any, speak ; for him — have I offended. 1 

pause for a reply. 

None ! then none — have I offended. I have 
done no more to Cesar, than you should do to 
Brutus. The question of his death — is en- 
rolled in the capitol ; his glory not extenuated, 
wherein he was worthy ; nor his offences en- 
forced, for which he suffered death. 

Here comes his body, mourned by Mark 
Antony ; who, though he had no hand in his 
death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a 
place in the commonwealth ; as, which of you 

shall not 1— With this I depart that as I 

slew my best lover — for the good of Rome, I 
have the same dagger for myself, when it shall 
please my country to need my death. 



633. 



ACCOMPLISHED YOUNG LADY. 



She shone, at every concert; where are bought 
Tickets, by all who wish them, for a dollar; 

She patronised the theatre, and thought, 
That Wallack looked extremely well in Rolla; 

She fell in love, as all the ladies do, 

With Mr. Simpson — talked as loudly, too, 

As any beauty of the highest grade, 
To the gay circle in the box beside her; 

And when the pit— half vexed, and half afraid, 
With looks of smothered indignation eyed her ; 

She calmly met their gaze, and stood before 'em, 

Smiling at vulgar taste, and mock decorum. 

And though by no means a "Bas bleu," she had 
For literature, a most becoming passion; 

Had skimmed the latest novels, good, and bad, 
And read the Croakers, when they were in 
fashion ; 

And Dr. Chalmers' sermons, of a Sunday; [gundi. 

And Woodworth's Cabinet, and the new Salma- 

Bhe was among the first, and warmest patrons 

Of G******' s conversaziones, where, [matrons. 
In rainbow groups, our bright eyed maids, and 

On science bent, assemble ; to prepare 
Themselves for acting well, in life, their part, 
As wives and mothers. There she leam'd by heart 
Words, to the witches in Macbeth unknown, 
Hydraulics, hydrostatics, and pneumatics 



Dioptrics, optics, katoptrics, carbon, 

Chlorine, and iodine, and aerostatics ; 
Also, — why frogs, for want of air, expire; 
And how to set the Tappan sea on fire ! 
In all the modern languages, she vras 

Exceedingly well versed ; and Lad devoted, 
To their attainment, far more time than has, 

By the best teachers lately, been allotted; 
For she had taken lessons, twice a week, 
For a full month in each; and she could spesk 
French and Italian, equally as well 

As Chinese, Portuguese, or German ; and 
What is still more surprising, she could spell 

Most of our longest English words, offhand; 
Was quite familiar in Low Dutch and Spanish, 
And tho't of studying modern Greek and Danish. 
She sang divinely : and in " Love's young dream," 

And '-Fanny dearest," and 'The soldier's bride ;* 
And every song whose dear delightful theme, 

Is " Love, still love," had oft till midnight tried 
Her finest, loftiest pigeon-wings of sound, 
Waking the very watchmen far around. — Halleck. 

633. Charity. Though I speak — with 
the tongues of men, and of angels, and have 
not charity, I am become as sounding brass, 
or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the 
gift of prophecy, and understand all myste- 
ries, and all knowledge ; and though I have 
all faith, so that I could remove mountains, 
and have not charity, I am nothing. 

And though I bestow all my goods to feed 
the poor, and though I give my body to be 
burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me 
nothing. Charity — suffereth long, and is kind ; 
charity — envieth not ; charity — vaunteth not 
itself; it is not puffed up ; doth not behave it- 
self unseemly ; seeketh not her own ; is not 
easily provoked ; thinketh no evil; rejoiceth 
not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; 
beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth 
all things, endureth all things. 

Charity — never faileth : but whether there 
be prophecies, they shall fail ; whether there 
be tongues, they shall cease ; whether thero 
be knowledge, it shall vanish away. For we 
know, in part, and we prophecy, in part. But, 
when that which is perfect, is come, then that, 
which is in part, shall be done away. 

When I was a child, I spake as a child, 1 
understood as a child, I thought as a child ; 
but when I became a man, I put away child- 
ish things. For now, we see through a glass, 
darkly; but then, face to face: now, I know 
m part; but then, shall I know, even as also 
I am known. And now abideth faith, hope, 
charity, these three; but the greatest of these 
is charity. — St Paul. 

EARLY RISING AND PRAYER. 

When first thy eyes unvail, give thy soul leave 
To do the like ; our bodies — but forerun 
The spirit's duty; true hearts — spread and heave 
Unto their God, as flowers do — to the sun ; 
Give him thy first tho'ts then, so— shall thou keep 
Hun company — all day, and in him — sleep. 
Yet never sleep the sun up ; prayer— .should 
Dawn with the day ; there are set — awful hours — 
Twixt heaven and us ; the manna — was not good 
After sun rising; for day — sullies flowers: 
Rise — to prevent the sun ; sleep— doth sins glut, 
And heaven's gate opens, when the world's is shul 
Converse with nature's charms, and see her store* unroll'd. 



202 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



634:. SAILOR BOY'S DREAM. 

In «1 imbei s of midnight, the sailor boy lay ; 

flit hammock swung l>ose, at the sport of the wind ; 

Bat watch-worn, and weary, his cares flew away, 

And visions of happiness danced o'er his mind. 

He dreamt of his home, of his dear native bowers, 

And pleasure that waited on life's merry morn ; 

While memory— stood sideways, half covered with flowen, 

And restored every rose, but secreted its thorn. 
Then fancy, her magical pinions spread wide, 

And bade the young dreamer in ecstasy rise- 
Now far, far behind him, the green waters glide, 

And the cot of his forefathers blesses his eyes. 
The jessamine clambers in flower o'er the thatch, 

■*^d the swallow sings sweet, from her nest in the wall ; 
• 11 trembling with transport, he raises the latch, 

And the voices of lovtd ones reply to his call. 
1 father bends o'er him, with looks of delight, 

His cheek is impearled, with a mother's warm tear, 
And the lips of the boy, in a love-kiss unite, 

With the lips of the maid, whom his bosom holds dear 
The heart of the sleeper beats high in his breast, 

Joy quickens his pulse— all bis hardships seem o'er 
And a murmur of happiness steals through his rest — 

" God, thou hast blessed me— I ask for no more." 
Ah, what is that flame which now bursts on his e)'e ! 

Ah, what is that sound, wliich now larums his ear ! 
Tis the lightning's red glare, painting hell on the sky ! 

Tis the crash of the thunder, the groan of the sphere 
He springs from his hammock — he flies to the deck, 

Amazement confronts him with images dire- 
Wild winds, and waves drive the vessel a wreck— 

The masts fly in splinters — the shrouds are on lire ! 
Like mountains, the billows tremendously swell — 

In vain the lost wretch calls on Mary to save ; 
Unseen hands of spirits are wringing his knell, 

And the death-angel flaps his broad wing o'er the wave ! 
Oh ! sailor boy, woe to thy dream of delight ! 

In darkness dissolves the gay frost-work of bliss — 
Where now is the picture that fancy touched bright, 

Thy parents' fond pressure, and love's honeyed kiss ! 
Oh ! sailor boy ! sailor boy ! never again 

Shall home, love, or kindred, thy wishes repay ; 
Unblessed, and unhonored, down deep in the main, 

Full many a score fathom, thy frame shall decay. 
No tomb shall e'er plead to remembrance for thee, 

Or redeem form, or frame, from the merciless surge ; 
But the white foam of waves shall thy winding-sheet be, 

And winds, in the midnight of winter, thy dirge. 
On beds of green sea-flower, thy limbs shall be laid ; 

Around thy white bones, the red coral shall grow; 
Of thy fair yellow locks, threads of amber be made, 

And every part suit to thy mansion below. 
Days, months, years, and ages, shall circle away, 

And the vast waters over thy body shall roll — 
Earth loses thy pattern forever and aye— 

Oh ! sailor boy ! sailor boy ! peace to thy soul.— Dimond. 

Time avd its Chaxges. Reformation is 
a work of time. A national taste, however 
wrong it may be, cannot be totally changed 
at once ; we must yield a little to the prepos- 
session, which has taken hold on the mind, 
and we may then bring people to adopt what 
would offend them, if endeavored to be intro- 
duced by violence. 

What's fame? a fancied life in other's breath, 
A thing beyond us, e'en before our death. 
All fame s foreign, but of true desert, 
Plays round the head, but come3 not to the heart; 
One self-approving hour, whole years outweighs 
Of stupid starers, and of loud hussas : 
And more true joy, Marcellus — exil'd, feels, 
Than Cesar, with a senate at his heels. 
Mind, not money— makes the man, 



635. CHILD HAROLD. — CA IflO I». 

Oh ! that the desert— were my dwelling place, 

With one fair spirit — for my minister 

That I might all forget the humai. race, 

And hating no one, love but only her ! 

Te elements !— in whose ennobling stir, 

I feel myself exalted— Can ye not 

Accord me such a being ? Do I err 

In deeming such — inhabit many a spot 
Though with them to converse, can rarely be nr 

There is a pleasure— in the pathless woods, 

There is a rapture — on the lonely shore, 

There is society where none intrudes, 

By the deep sea, and music in its roar : 

I love not man the less, but nature more, 

From these our interviews, in which I steal 

From all I may be, or have been before, 

To mingle— with the Universe, and feel 
What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal, 

Roll on, thou deep, and dark blue ocean — roll 1 

Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; 

Man marks the earth with ruin— his control 

Stops with the shore ;— upon the watery plain 

The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain 

A shadow of man's ravage, save his own ; 

When for a moment, like a drop of rain, 

He sinks into thy depths, with bubbling groan, 
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, ; 

The armaments which thunderstrike the walls 

Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, 

And monarchs tremble, in their capitals, 

The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make 

Their clay creator, the vain title take — 

Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war ! 

These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, 

They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar 
Alike, the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgai 

Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee— 

Assyria, Greece, Rome, Cartilage, what are tLey ? 

Thy waters wasted them, while they were free, 

And many a tyrant since ; their shores obey 

The stranger, slave, or savage ; their decay 

Has dried up realms to deserts :— not so thou— 

Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves' play — 

Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow- 
Such as creation's dawn beheld, thoa rollest no^ 

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty* form 

Glasses itself in tempests ; in all time, 

(Calm, or convulsed, in breeze, or gale, or storm, 

Icing the pole, or in the torrid cliine, 

Dark-heaving,) — boundless, endless, and snblime- 

The image of Eternity — the throne 

Of the Invisible ; even from out thy slime 

The monsters of the deep are made ! each zone 
Obeys thee ; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone. 

And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joy 

Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be 

Borne like the bubbles, onward ; from a boy, 

I wantoned with thy breakers— they to me 

Were a delight; and if the freshening sea 

Made them a terror — 'twas a pleasing fear, 

For I was, as it were, a child of thee, 

And trusted to thy billows far and near, 
And laid my hand upon thy mane— as I do here. 

In the dreams of delight, which with ar Jor we 
Oft the phantom of sorrow appears ; [seek, 
And the roses of pleasure, which bloom on yom 
Must be steeped in the dew of your tears, [cheek, 
The aged man, that coffers up his gold. [fit^ 
Is plagu'd with cramps, and gouts, and painfi*. 
And scarce hath eyes, his treasure to behold. 
But still, like pining Tantalus, he sits, 
And useless bans the harvest of his wits, 
Having no other pleasure of his gain, 
But torment, that it cannot cure his pain. 
To err — is human ; to forgive — divine. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



203 



636. Patriotic Triumph. The citizens 
♦f America — celebrate that day, which gave 
birth to their liberties. The recollecti6n of 
this event, replete with consequences so be- 
neficial to mankind, swells every heart with 
joy, and fills every tongue with praise. We 
celebrate, not the sanguinary exploits of a 
tyrant, to subjugate, and enslave — millions 
of his fellow-creatures; we celebrate, neither 
the birth, nor the coronation, of that phantom, 
styled a king; but, the resurrection of Liberty, 
the emancipation of mankind, the regenera- 
tion of the world. These are the sources of 
our joy, these the causes of our triumph. We 

?>ay no homage at the tomb of kings, to sub- 
ime our feelings — we trace no line of illus- 
trious ancesters, to support our dignity — we 
recur to no usages sanctioned by the autho- 
rity of the great, to protect our rejoicing; 
no, we love liberty, we glory in the rights of 
men, we glory in independence. On what- 
ever part of God's creation a human form 
pines under chains, there, Americans drop 
their tears. 

A dark clcud once shaded this beautiful 
quarter of the globe. Consternation, for 
awhile, agitated the hearts of the inhabitants. 
War desolated our fields, and buried our vales 
in blood. But the dayspring from on high 
soon opened upon us its glittering portals. 
The angel of liberty descending, dropped on 
Washington's brow, the wreath of victory, 
ond stamped on American freedom, the seal 
of omnipotence. The darkness is past, and 
the true light now shines — to enliven, and re- 
joice mankind. We tread a new earth, in 
which dwelleth righteousness; and view a 
new heaven, flaming with inextinguishable 
stars. Our feet will ho more descend into the 
vale of oppressions; our shoulders will no 
more bend — under the weight of a foreign 
domination, as cruel, as it was unjust. Well 
may we rejoice — at the return of this glorious 
anniversary ;' a day dear to every American ; 
a day — to be had in everlasting remembrance; 
a day, whose light circulates joy — through 
fiie hearts of all republicans, and terror 
through the hearts of all tyrants. — Maxy. 

637. tit for tat: coquktky punished. 

Ellen was fair, and knew it too, 

As other village beauties do, 
Whose mirrors — never lie ; 

Secure of any swain she chose, 

She smiled on half a dozen beaux, 

And, reckless of a lover's woes, 

She cheated these, and taunted those ; 

" For how could any one suppose 
A clown could take her eye ?" 

But whispers through the village ran, 
That Edgar was the happy man, 

The maid design'd to bless; 
For, wheresover moved the fair, 
The youth was, like her shadow, there, 
And rumor— boldly match'd the pair, 

For village folks will guess. 
Edgar did love, but still delay'd 
To make confession to the maid, 

Sc bashful was the youth ; 
But let the name in secret burn, 
Certain of meeting a return, 
When, from his bj s, the fair should learn, 

Gffici dty, toe ruth 



At length, one morn, to taste the air, 
The youth and maid, in < ne horse chair, 

A long excursion took. 
Edgar had nerved his bashful heart, 
The sweet confession to impart. 
For ah ! suspense had caused a smart, 

He could no longer brook 
He drove, nor slackened once his reins, 
Till Hempstead's wide extended plains 

Seem'd join'd to skies above : 
Nor house, nor tree, nor shrub was near 
The rude and dreary scene to cheer, 
Nor soul within ten miles to»hear— 
And still, poor Edgar's silly fear, 

Forbade to speak of love. 
At last, one desperate effort broke 
The bashful spell, and Edgar spoke, 

With most persuasive tone ; 
Recounted past attendance o'er, 
And then, by all that's lovely, swore. 
That he would love, for evermore, 
( If she 'd become his own. 

The. maid, in silence, heard his prayer, 
Then, with a most provoking air, 

She, tittered in his face; 
And said, " 'Tis time for you to know, 
A lively girl must have a beau, 
Just like a reticule — for show ; 
And at her nod to come, and go — 

But he should know his place. 
Your penetration must be dull, 
To let a hope within your skull 

Of matrimony spring. 
Your wife ! ha, ha ! upon my word. 
The thought is laughably absurd, 
As anything I ever heard — 

I never dream'd of such a thing." 
The lover sudden dropp'd his rein, 
Now on the centre of the plain — 

" The linch-pin's out !" he cried ; 
Be pleased, one moment, to alight, 
Till I can set the matter right, 

That we may safely ride." 
He said, and handed out the fair- 
Then laughing, crack'd his whip in air, 
And wheeling round his horse and cha», 
Exclaim'd, "Adieu, I leave you there 

In solitude to roam." 
" What mean you, sir!" the maiden crl«f , 
u Did you invite me out to ride, 
To leave me here, without a guide? 

Nay, stop, and take me home." 
" What! take you home !" exclaim'd the beau, 
" Indeed, my dear, I'd like to know 
How such a hopeless wish could grow, 

<>r in your bosom spring. [word, 

What! t&ke Ellen home? ha! ha. upon mj 
The thought is laughably absurd, 
As anything I ever heard; 

I never dream'd of such a thing!" 

Man, always prosperous, would be giddy 
and. insolent; always afflicted — would be sul- 
len, or despondent. Hopes and fears, joy and 
sorrow, are, therefore, so blended in his life, as 
both to give room for worldly pursuits, and to 
recall the admonitions of conscience. 



284 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS 



63S. Recitations insteap of Thea- I 
thes. In its present state, the theatre — de- ' 
serves no encouragement It has nourished ! 
intemperance, and all vice. In saying this, 
I do not say that the amusement is radically, 
essentially evil. I can conceive of a theatre, 
which would be the noblest of all amuse- 
ments, and would take a high rank, among 
the means of refining the taste, and elevating 
the character of a people. The deep woes, 
the mighty, and terrible passions, and the 
sublime emotions — of genuine tragedy, are 
fitted to thrill us with human sympathies, 
with profound interest in our nature, vith a 
consciousness ctf what man can do, and dare, 
and suffer, with an awed feeling of the fearful 
mysteries of life. The soul of the spectator 
is stirred from its depths ; and the lethargy, 
in which so many live, is roused, at least for 
a time, to some intenseness of thought, and 
sensibility. The drama answers a high pur- 
pose, when it places us in the presence of the 
most solemn, and striking event of human 
history, and lays bare to us the human heart, 
in its most powerful, appalling, glorious 
workings. But how little does the theatre 
accomplish its end '? How often is it disgra- 
ced, by monstrous distortions of human na- 
ture, and still more disgraced by profaneness, 
coarseness, indelicacy, low wit, such as no 
woman, worthy of the name, can hear with- 
out a blush, and no man can take pleasure 
in — without self-degradation. Is it possible, 
that a christian, and a refined people, can re- 
sort to theatres, where exhibitions of danc- 
ing are given, fit only for brothels, and where 
the most licentious class in the community 
throng, unconcealed, to tempt, and destroy '{ 
That the theatre should be suffered to exist, 
in its present degradation, is a reproach to 
'the community. Were it to fall, a better dra- 
ma might spring up in its place. In the 
meantime, is there not an amusement, hav- 
ing an affinity with the drama, which might 
be usefully introduced among us 1 I mean, 
Recitations. A work of genius, recited by a 
man of fine taste, enthusiasm, and powers of 
elocution, is a very pure, and high gratifica- 
tion. Were this art cultivated, and encour- 
aged, great numbers, now insensible to the 
most beautiful compositions, might be waked 
up to their excellence, and power. It is not 
easy to conceive of a more effectual way, of 
spreading a refined taste through a commu- 
nity. The drama, undoubtedly, appeals more 
strongly to the passions than recitation ; but 
the latter brings out the meaning of the author 
more. Shakspeare, worthily recited, would be 
better understood than on the stage. Then, in 
recitation, we escape the weariness of listen- 
ing to poor performers; who, after all, fill up 
most or the time at the theatre. Recitations, 
sufficiently varied, so as to include pieces of 
chaste wit, as well of pathos, beauty and 
sublimity, is adapted to our present intellect- 
ual progress, as much as the drama falls be- 
low it. Should this exhibition be introduced 
among us successfully, the result would be, 
that the power of recitation would be exten- 
sively called forth, and this would be added 
to our social, and domestic pleasures. 

Thou knowesc but little, 
If thou dost think true virtue — is confined 
To climes, or systems; no, it flows spontaneous, 
Like life's warm stream, throughout the whole cre- 
Ajid beats \l e pulse of every healthful heart, [ation, 



639. Waterloo; *he ball and batfijl 
There was a sound of revt Iry — by night, 
And Belgium's capital— had gathered then 
Her beauty, and her chivalry; and bright 
The lamps shone o'er fair women, and brave men 
A thousand hearts beat happily ; and when 
Music arose, with its voluptuous swell, 
Soft eyes looked love, to eyes, which spake again, 
And all weut merry as a marriage-bell ; [knell! 
But hush ! hark ! a deep sound strikes like a riling 
Did ye not hear it ?— No ; 'twas but the wind, 
Or the car, rattling o'er the stony street : 
On with the dance ! let joy be unconfined ; 
No sleep till morn, when youth and pleasure meet, 
To chase the glowing hours, with flying feet — 
But hark ! That heavy sound breaks in once more, 
As if the clouds — its echo would repeat ; 
And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! [roar! 
Arm! arm! it is— it is — the cannon's opening 
Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, 
And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, 
And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago 
Blushed — at the praise of their own loveliness : 
And there were sudden partings, such as press 
The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs, 
Which ne'er might be repeated; for who could 
If ever more should meet, those mutual eyes, [guess, 
Since upon night, so sweet, such awful morn 

could rise ? 
And there was mounting in hot haste ; the steet\ 
The mustering squadron, and the clattering car. 
Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, 
And swiftly forming in the ranks of war ; 
And the deep thunder, peal on peal, afar; 
And near, the beat of the alarming drum, 
Roused up the soldier, ere the morning star ; 
While thronged the citizens, with terror dumb, 
Or whispering with white lips — "The foe! tiief 

come ! they come !" 
And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, 
Dewy with natuve's tear-drops, as they pass, 
Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, 
Over the unreturning brave, — alas ! 
Ere evening, to be trodden like the grass, 
Which now beneath them, but above shall grow, 
In its next verdure, when this fiery mass 
Of living valor, rolling on the foe, [and low. 

And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold, 
Last noon— beheld them, full of lusty life, 
Last eve — in beauty's circle, proudly gay, 
The midnight— brought the signal-sound of strife, 
The morn— the marshaling in arms,— the day, 
Battle's magnificently-stern array! [reni, 

The thunder-cloUds close o'er it, which, when, 
The earth is covered thick with other clay, 
Which her own clay shall cover, heaped, and pent, 
Rider and horse, — friend, foe, — in one red burisi 

blent ! 

What's in the air? 
Some subtle spirit— runs through all my veins, 
Hope— seems to ride, this morning, on the wind, 
And outshines the sun. — 

When things go wrong, each fool presumes t' a* 
And if more happy, thinks himelf more wise: fvis^ 
All wretchedly deplore the present state ; 
And that advice seems best, which come3 too lat* 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



**5 



640. FKVEB DREAM. 
A lever- -reorched my body, fired my brain ! 
Like Un a, in Vesuvius, boiled my blood, 
Within the glowing caverns of my heart 
I raged with thirst, and begged a cold, clear draught 
Of fountain water.— 'Twas with tears, denied. 
I drank a nauseous febrifuge, and slept ; 
But rested not— harassed with horrid dreams, 
Of burning deserts, and of dusty plains, 
Mouutains, disgorging flames— forests on fire, 
Steam, sunshine, smoke, and boiling lakes- 
Hills of hot sand, and glowing stones, that seemed 
Embers, and ashes, of a burnt up world ! 

Thirst raged within me.— I sought the deepest vale, 
And called on all the rocks, and caves for water ;— 
I climbed a mountain, and from cliff to cliff, 
Pursuer? 3 flying cloud, howling for water: — 
I crustvsd ♦he withered herbs, and gnawed dry roots, 
Still crying, Water ! water ! — While the cliffs and caves, 
In horrid mockery, re-echoed " Water ! " 
Below the mountain, gleamed a city, red 
With solar flame, upon the sandy bank 
Of a broad river. — "Soon, oh soon !" I cried, 
•Til cool my burning body in that flood, 
And quaff my fill." — I ran — I reached the shore. — 
The river wa3 dried up. Its oozy bed 
Was dust ; and on its arid rocks, I saw 
The scaly myriads— fry beneath the sun ! 
Where sunk the channel deepest, I beheld 
A stirring multitude of human forms, 
And heard a faint, wild, lamentable wail. • 

Thither I sped, and joined the general cry 
Of—" water ! " They had delved a spacious pit, 
In search of hidden fountains — sad, sad sight ! 
I saw them rend the rocks up in their rage 
With mad impatience, calling on the earth 
To open, and yield up her cooling fountains. 

Meanwhile the skies, on which they dared not gaze, 
Stood o'er them like a canopy of brass — 
Dndimnied by moisture. M he red dog-star raged, 
And Phnebus, from the^Re of Virgo, shot 
His scorching jhafts. ^■Shirsty multitude 
Grew still more frantiS^Those, who dug the earth, 
Fell lifeless on the rocks, they strained to upheave, 
And filled' again, with their own carcasses, 
The pits they made — undoing their own work ! 
Despair, at length, drove out the laborers, 
At sight of whom, a general groan— announced 
The death of hope. Ah ! now, no more was heard 
The cry of " water ! " To the city next, 
Howling, we ran — all hurrying without aim : — 
Thence tf 'he woods. The baked plain gaped for moisture, 
And from its a-id breast heaved smoke, that seemed 
The breath of furnace— fierce, volcanic fire, 
Or hot monsoon, that raises Syrian sands 
To ciouds. Amid Uie forests, we espied 
A faint, and bleating herd. Sudden, a shrill, 
And norrid shout arose of— "Blood ! biood ! blood!" 
We tell upon them witn the tiger's Hurst, 
And drank up all the blood, that was not human! 
We were dyed in blood ! Despair returned ; 
The cry of blood was hushed, and dumb confusion reigned. 
Even then, when hope was dead !— past hope— 
I heard a laugh ! and saw a wretched man 
Rip ha .iwn veins, and, bleeding, drink 
tVith fager joy. The example seized on all :— 
Each felt, upon himself, tearing his veins. 
Fiercely, in search of blood '. And some there we" 
Who, having emptied their own veins, did seize 
Upon their neighbor's arms, and slew them for their blood— 
Oh! tappy then, were mother:, who gave suck. 
They dashed their little infants from their breasts, 
And their shrunk bosoms tortured, to extract 
The l.almy juice, oh ! exquisitely sweet 
To U eir parched tongues ! Tit done !— now til is gone 
Blood, water, and the bosom's nectar,— all ! 

"Rend, oh! ye lightning! ! the sealed firmament, 
Afid flood a I urning world.— Rain ! rain ! pour ! pour I 
Of«n— ye windows of high heaven ! and pour 
**m aiighty deluge let us drown, and drink 

34 Z 



Luxurious death ! Ye earthquakes, split the globe, 
The solid, rock-ribbed globe !— and .ay all bare 
Its subterranean rivers, and fresh se£j ! " 

Thus raged the multitude. And many fell 
In fierce convulsions ;— many slew themselves. 
And now, I saw the city all in flames — 
The forest burning — and the very earth oa n>o 
I saw the mountains open with a roar, 
Louu as the seven apocalyptic thunders, 
And eeas of lava rolling headlong down, 
Through crackling forests fierce, and hot as hell, 

Down to the plain — I turned to fly, and waked ! 

64:1. NOSE ANu THE MAN. 

Kind friends, at your call, I'm come here to sing 

Or rather to talk of my woes; 
Though small 's the delight to you I can bring 

The subject's concerning my nose. 
Some noses are large, and others are small, 

For nature's vagaries are such, 
To some folks, I'm told, she gives no nose at all, 

But to me she has given too much. 
Oh, dear! lauks-a-daisy me! 
My cause of complaint, and the worst of my woe5| 
Is, because I have got such a shocking long nose. 
Some insult or other, each day I do meet, 

And by joking, my friends are all foes; 
And the boys every day, as I go thro' the street, 

All bellow out — " There goes a nose. m 
A woman, with matches one day, I came near, 

Who, just as I tried to get by her, 
Shoved me rudely aside, and ask'd, with a leer, 

If I wanted to set her o]fire? 
Oh, dear ! lauks-a-daisy me ! 
Each rascal, each day, some inuendo throws, 
As, my nose is rCi mine> I belongs to my nose. 
I once went a courting a wealthy old maid, 

To be married we were, the next day; 
But an accident happened, the marriage delay'J, 

My nose got too much in the way. 
For the night before marriage, entrane'd with my 

In love, e'er some torment occurs — [L .jm, 

I screw'd up my lips, just to give her a kiss, 

My nose slipr/d, and rubb'd against Iter's! 
Oh, dear ! lauks-a-daisy me ! 
The ring that I gave, at my head soon she throws, 
And another tipp'd me, 'twas a w-ring on the nose. 
Like a porter all day, with fatigue fit to ciack, 

I'm seeking for rest, at each place, 
Or, like pilgrim of old. with his load at bis back, 

Only my load I bear on my face. 
I can't get a wife, though each Hour hard I try, 

The girls they all blush, like a rose; 
"I'm afraid to have you !" when I ask 'em for why? 

Because, you have got such a nose. 
Oh, dear ! lauks-a-daisy me ! 
Their cause of refusal I cannot suppose, 
They all like the man, but they say- blow his nose! 
Like a large joint of meat, before a small fire, 

They say that my proboscis hangs — 
Or, to a brass knocker, nought there can be nighe^ 

And in length, it a pump-handle bangs. 
A wag, you must know, just by way of a wipe, 

Said, with a grin on his face, t'other night, 
As he, from his pocket, was pulling a pipe, 

"At your nose will you give me a light?" 
Oh, dear! lauks-a-daisy me! 
If I ask any one. my way to disclose, 
If I lose it — they answer, why, follow your no** 



266 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



642. Nobility of Labor. Why, in the 
great scale of things, is labor ordained for us ? 
Easily, had it so pleased the great Ordainer, 
might it have been dispensed with. The 
world itself, might have been a mighty ma- 
chinery, for producing all that man wants. 
Houses might have risen like an exhalation, 
"With the sound 

Of dulcet symphonies, and voices sweet, 

Built like a temple." 
Gorgeous furniture might have been placed 
in them, and soft couches and luxurious ban- 
quets spread, by hands unseen; and man, 
clothed with fabrics of nature's weaving, 
rather than with imperial purple, might have 
been sent to disport himself in those Elysian 
palaces. 

u Fair scene!" I imagine you are saying : 
" fortunate for us had it been the scene or- 
dained for human life!" But where, then, 
had been human energy, perseverance, pa- 
tience, virtue, heroism * Cut off labor with 
one blow, from the world, and mankind had 
sunk to a crowd of Asiatic voluptuaries. 

No — it had not been fortunate! Better, 
that the earth be given to man as a dark mass, 
whereupon to labor. Better, that rude, and un- 
sightly materials be provided in the ore-bed, 
and in the forest, for him to fashion in splen- 
dor and beauty. Better I say, not because 
of that splendor, and beauty, but, because 
the act of creating them, is better than the 
things themselves; because exertion is nobler 
than enjoyment ; because the laborer is greater 
and more worthy of honor, than the idler. 

I call upon those whom I address, to stand 
up for the nobility of labor. It is heaven's 
great ordinance for human improvement. 
Let not the great ordinance be broken down. 
What do I say? It is broken down; and it 
has been broken down for ages. Let it then 
be built again ; here, if any where, on the 
shores of a new world — of a new civilization. 

But how, it may be asked, is it broken 
down? Do not men toil? it may be said. 
They do indeed toil, but they too generally 
do, because they must. Many submit to it, 
as in some sort, a degrading necessity ; and 
they desire nothing so much on earth, as an 
escape from it. They fulfil the great law of 
labor in the letter, but break it in the spirit. 
To some field of labor, mental or manual, 
every idler should hasten, as a chosen, covet- 
ed field of improvement. 

But so he is not compelled to do, under the 
teachings of our imperfect civilization. On 
the contrary, he sits down, folds his hands, 
and blesses himself in idleness. This way of 
thinking, is the heritage of the absurd and 
unjust feudal system, under which serfs la- 
bored, and gentlemen spent their lives in fight- 
ing and feasting. It is time that this oppro- 
brium of toil were done away. 

Ashamed to toil? Ashamed of thy dingy 
work-shop, and dusty labor-field; of thy hard 
hand, scarred with service more honorable 
than that of war ; of thy soiled and weather- 
stained garments, on which mother nature has 
embroidered mist, sun and rain, fire and steam, 
her own heraldic honors ? Ashamed of those 
tokens, and titles, and envious of the flaunt- 
ing robes of imbecile idleness, and vanity ? 
It is treason to nature, it is impiety to heaven ; 
it is breaking heaven's great ordinance. Toil, 
I repeat — toil, either of the brain, of the heart, 
or of the hand, is the only true manhood, — 
the only true nobility ! — Dewey. 



643. DAVID'S LAMEST OVKB ABSALOM. 

The king — stood still, 
Till the last echo — died: then, throwing on* 
The sack-cloth — from his brow, and laying bact 
The pall— from the still features of his child, 
He bowed his head upon him, and broke forth 
In the resistless eloquence of woe : — 

" Alas ! my noble boy I that thou shouldst die I 

Thou, who wert made so beau', fully fair ! 
That death — Miould settle — in thj glorious eye. 

And leave his stillness in this c> steringhair ! 
How could he mark thee — for the silent tomb, 

My proud boy, Absalom t 
Cold is thy brow, my son ! and I am chill, 

As to my bosom — I have tried to press thee. 
How was I wont— to feel my pulses thrill, 

Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee. 
And hear thy sweet — 'my father,' from theso 

And cold lips, Absalom ! [dumb, 

The grave hath won thee. I shall hear the gush 

Of music, and the voices of the young; 
And life will pass me — in the mantling blush, 

And the dark tresses— to the soft winds flung; 
But thou— no more, with thy sweet voice, shall 

To meet me, Absalom I [come 

But, oh ! when I am stricken, and my heart, 

Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken, 
How will its love for thee, as I depart, [token ! 

Yearn for thine ear— to drink its last — deep 
It were so sweet, amid death's gathering gloom, 

So see thee, Absalom ! 
And now — farewell ! 'Tis hard — to give thee up, 

With death— so like a gentle slumber on the«. 
And thy dark sin ! — oh ! I uuld drink the cup, 

If, from this wo, its bitterness had won thee. 
May God have called thee, like a wanderer, 

My erring Absalom ?" [home. 

He covered up his face, and bowed himself, 
A moment, on his child ; then, giving him 
A look of melting tenderness, he clasped 
His hands, convulsively, as if in prayer; 
And, as a strength were given him of God, 
He rose up, calmly, and composed the pall, 
Firmly, and decently, and left him there, — 
As if his rest— had been a breathing sleep. Willis* 

The theatre was from the very first, 
The favorite haunt of sin ; though honest men, 
Some very honest, wise and worthy men, 
Maintained it might be turned to good account : 
And so perhaps it might, but never was. 
From first— to last— it was an evil pmce : 
And now— such things were acted there, as made 
The devils blush: and, from the neighborhood, 
Angels, and holy men, trembling, retired : 
And what with dreadful aggravation— crowDed 
This dreary time, was — sin against the light. 
All men knew God, and, knowing, disobeyed ; 
And gloried to insult him— to his face. 

Look round — the habitable world, how few — 
Know their own good, or, knowing it, pursue I 
'Tis all men's office— to speak patience — 
To those that toil— under a load of sorrow. 
'This the first sanction— nature— gave to man, 
Each other to assist, in what they can 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



26T 



644. MARCO BOZZARRIS. 

He fell in an attack upoD the Turkish camp at Laipi, the 
site of the ancient Platea, August 20, 1823, and expired iu the nic- 
snent of victory. His last words were— "To die for liberty, is a 
pleasure, and not a pain." 

At midnight, — in his guarded tent, 

The Turk— was dreaming of the hour, 
When Greece,— her knee in suppliance bent, 

Should tremble— at his power. 
In dreams, through camp— and court, he bore 
The trophies of a conqueror ; 

In dnuims. his song of triumph heard; 
Then, wore his monarch's signet ring: 
Then, pressed that monarch's throne,— a king; 
As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, 

As Eden's garden bird. 

At midnight,— in the forest shades, 

Bozzarris — ranged his Suliote band. 
True — as the steel — of their tried blades, 

Heroes — in heart — and hand. 
There, had the Persian's thousands stood, 
There! had the glad earth — drunk their blood, 

On old Platea's day; 
And new, there breathed that haunted air, 
The sons — of sires, who conquered there, 
With arm — to strike, and soul — to dare, 

As quick, as far as they. 

An hour passed on — the Turk — awoke — 

That bright dream — was his last; 
He woke — to hear his sentries shriek, 
" To arms ! they come ' the Greek ! the Greek !" 
He woke — to die, 'midst flame, and smoke, 
And shout, and groan, and sabre stroke, 

And death-shots — falling thick and fast 
As lightnings, from the mountain cloud; 
And heard, with voice, as trumpet loud, 

Bozzarris — cheer his band : 
* Strike ! till the last armed foe expires ; 
Strike ! for your altars, and your fires; 
Strike ! for the green graves of your sires; 

God — and your native land!" 

They fought, like brave men, long and wellj 

They piled that ground — with Moslem slam J 
They conquered — but, Bozzarris fell, 

Bleeding — at every vein. 
His few surviving comrades saw 
His smile, when rang the proud — hurrah! 

And the red field was won ; 
Then saw, in death, his eyelids close 
Calmly, as to a night's repose, 

Like flowers — at set of sun. 

Come to the bridal chamber, — Death ! 

Come to the mother — when she feels, 
For the first time, her first-born's breath; 

Come — when the blessed seals, 
That close the pestilence, are broke, 
And crowded cities — wail its stroke; 
Come — in consumption's ghastly form, 
The earthquake shock, the ocean storm; 
Come, when the heart beats high, and warm, 

With banquet-song, and dance, and wine— 
And thou art terrible! the tear, 
The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier, 
And all we know, — or dream, or fear, 

Of agony,— are thine. 

But. to the hero, when his sword 

Has won the battle for the free. 
Thy voice— sounds like a prophet's word, 
And, in its hollow tones, are heard — 

The thanks of millions — yet to be. 
Bozzarris! with the storied brave, 

Greece nurtured, in her glory's time, 
Rest thee — there is no prouder grave, 

E^en in her own proud clime. 
We iell thy doom— without a sigh ; 
For thou art Freedom's now, and Fame's— 
One of the few, the immortal n*nes. 

Tin were not born— to die.— Halleck. 



64:5. MAID OF MAIAH1IVX 
In the church of Malahide, in Ireland, are the ^jmb »nd efflgjp 
of the Lady Maid Plunkett, sister of the first Lo:d Diinaonny, <* 
whom it is recorded that " she was maid, wife, and widow in oh 
day." Her first husband, Hussy, Baron of Galtrim, wa» calk! 
from the altar to head "a hosting of the English against tka 
Irish," and was brought back to the bridal banquet a corpse, apu* 
the shields of his followers. 

The dark-eyed Maid— of Malahide, 

Her silken bodice laced, 
And on her brow, — with virgin pride, 

The bridal chaplet — placed. 
Her heart — is beating high, her cheek 

Is flushed — witn rosy shame, 
As laughing bridemaids — slily speak, 

The gallant bridegroom's name. 
The dark-eyed Maid— of Malahide— 

Before the altar — stands, 
And Galtrim — claims his blushing bride, 

From pure — and holy hands : — 
But hark ! what fearful sounds are those? 

" To arms ! to arms !" they cry ; — 
i The bride's sweet cheek — no longer glow*, 

Fear — sits in that young eye. 
The gallants — all are mustering now — 

The bridegroom's helm — is on : 
One look, — upon that wretched brow : 

One kiss, — and he is gone ; — 
The feast is spread, — but many a knighf 

Who should have graced that hall — 
Will sleep — anon, in cold moonlight, 

Beneath— a gory pall. 
The garlands — bright with rainbow dyes 

In gay festoons — are hung ; 
The starry lamps — out-shine the skies, 

The golden harps are strung : 
But she — the moving spring of all, 

Hath sympathy — with none 
That meet in that old festive hall ; — 

And now — the feast 's begun. 
Hark! to the clang of arms! is 'the, 

The bridegroom chief,— returnee- 
Crowned — with the wreath of victory 

By his good weapon— earned? 
Victorious bands — indeed — return, — 

But, on their shields — they bear — 
The laurelled chief, — and melt — those stent--- 

At that young bride's despair. 
" Take— take— the roses from my brow, 

The jewels — from my waist ; 
I have no need — of such things now :" 

And then — her cheek — she placed — 
Close — to his dead— cold cheek, and wept,- - 

As one may wildly weep, 
When the last hope, — the heart had kept, 

Lies buried — in the deep. 
Long years have passed,— since that young 

Bewailed — her widowed doom : [bride 

The holy walls — of Malahide — 

Still — shrine her marble tomb : — 
And sculpture there — has sought to prove, 

With rude essay — of art, 
That form — she wore in life, — whose love- 
Did grace — her woman's heart. — C-aw/tnl 
The influence of example — is a terrible 
responsibility — on the shoulders of every is 
dividual. 



868 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



646. Aahox Bciih and Blenxehhas- 
sktt. Who, then, is Aaron Burr, and what 
the part which he has borne in this transac- 
tion '.' He is its author ; its projector ; its ac- 
tive executor. Bold, ardent, restless, and as- 
Siring, his brain conceived it; his hand 
rought it into action. Beginning his opera- 
tions in New York, he associates with him, 
men, whose wealth is to supply the neces- 
sary funds. Possessed of the mainspring, 
his personal labor contrives all the machine- 
ry. Pervading the continent from New-York 
to New-Orleans, he draws into his plan, by 
everv allurement which he can contrive, men 
vi all ranks, and all descriptions. To youth- 
ful ardor he presents danger and glory ; to 
ambition, rank, and titles, and honors ; to av- 
arice, the mines of Mexico. To each person 
whom he addresses, he presents the object 
adapted to his taste : his recruiting officers are 
appointed; men arc engaged throughout the 
continent: civil life is indeed quiet upon the 
surface ; but in its bosom this man has con- 
trived to deposit the materials, which, with 
the slighest touch of his match, produces an 
explosion, to shake the continent. All this 
his restless ambition has contrived ; and, in 
the autumn of 1806, he goes forth, for the last 
time, to apply this match. On this excur- 
sion he meets with Blennerhassett. 

Who is Blennerhassett 1 A native of Ire- 
land, a man of letters, who fled from the 
storms of his own country to find quiet in ours. 
His history shews, that war is not the natu- 
ral element of his mind ; if it had been, he 
would never have exchanged Ireland for 
America. So far is an army from furnishing 
the society, natural and proper to Mr. Blen- 
nerhassett's character, that on his arrival in 
America, he retired, even from the popula- 
tion of the Atlantic states, and sought quiet, 
and solitude, in the bosom of our western for- 
ests. But he carried with him taste, and sci- 
ence, and wealth ; and " lo, the desert smiled." 
Possessing himself of a beautiful island in 
the Ohio, he rears upon it a palace, and dec- 
orates it with every romantic embellishment 
of fancy. A shrubbery, that Shenstone might 
have envied, blooms around him ; music that 
might have charmed Calypso and her nymphs, 
is his ; an extensive library spreads its treas- 
ures before him; a philosophical apparatus 
offers to him all the secrets, and mysteries of 
nature; peace, tranquillity, and innocence 
shed their mingled delights around him ; and, 
to crown the enchantment of the scene, a 
wife, who is said to be lovely even beyond 
her sex, and graced with every accomplish- 
ment, that can render it irresistible, had bles- 
sed him with her love, and made him the 
father of her children. The evidence would 
convince you, that this is but a faint picture 
of the real life. 

In the midst of all this peace, this inno- 
cence, and this tranquillity, this feast of the 
mind, this pure banquet of the heart — the 
destroyer comes — he comes — to turn this par- 
adise— into a hell — yet the liowers do not 
wither at his approach, and no monitory 
shuddering, through the bosom of their un- 
fortunate possessor, warns him of the ruin, 
that is coming upon him. A stranger presents 
himself. Introduced to their civilities, by the 
high rank which he had lately held in his 
country, he sjon finds his way to their hearts, 
by the dignity, and elegance of his demean- 
or, the light and beauty of his conversation. 



and «,he seductive, and fascinating power of 
his address. The conquest was not a diffi- 
cult one. Innocence is ever simple, and 
credulous; conscious of no design itself, it 
suspects none in others; it wears' no guards 
before its breast : every door, and portal, and 
avenue of the heart is thrown open, and all. 
who choose it, enter. Such, was the state or 
Eden, when the serpent entered its bowers. 
The prisoner, iw a more engaging form, v> ind- 
ing himself into the open and unpracticed 
heart of the unfortunate Blennerhassett, found 
but little difficulty, in changing the native 
character of that heart, and the objects of its 
affection. By degrees, he infuses into it the 
poison of his own ambition; he breathes into 
it the fire of his own courage ; a daring and des- 
perate thirst for glory ; an ardor, panting for 
all the storm, and bustle, and hurricane of life. 
In a short "time, the whole man i.s changed, 
and every object of his former delight relin- 
quished. No more he enjoys the tranquil 
scene; it has become flat, and insipid to his 
taste; his books are abandoned; his retort, 
and crucible, are thrown aside; his shrubbery 
in vain blooms, and breathes its fragrance up- 
on the air — he likes it not; his ear no longer 
drinks the rich melody of music; it longs for 
the trumpet's clangor, and the cannon's roar; 
even the prattle of his babes, once so sweet, 
no longer affects him ; and the angel smile of 
his wife, which hitherto touched his bosom 
with ecstasy so unspeakable, is now unfelt 
and unseen. Greater objects have taken pos- 
session of his soul — his imagination has been 
dazzled by visions of diadems, and stars, and 
garters, and titles of nobility : he has been 
taught to burn with restless emulation at the 
names of Cromwell, Cesar, and Bonaparte. 
His enchanted island is destined soon to re- 
lapse into a desert ; and, in a few months, 
we find the tender, and beautiful partner of 
his bosom, whom he lately " permitted not , 
the winds of" summer " to visit too roughly," 
we find her shivering, at midnight, on the 
winter banks of the Ohio, and mingling her 
tears with the torrents, that froze as they fell. 
Yet ; this unfortunate man, thus deluded from 
his interest, and his happiness — thus seduced 
from the paths of innocence, and peace — thus 
confounded in the toils, which were deliber- 
ately spread for him, and overwhelmed by 
the mastering spirit, and genius of another — 
this man, thus ruined, and undone, and made 
to play a subordinate part in this grand drama 
of guilt and treason — this man is to be called 
the principal offender ; while he, by whom he 
was thus plunged, and steeped in misery, is 
comparatively innocent — a mere accessory. 
Sir, neither the human heart, nor the human 
understanding will bear a perversion so mon- 
strous, and absurd ; so shocking to the soul , 
so revolting to reason. ! no sir. There is 
no man who knows anything of this affair, 
who does not know that to every body con- 
cerned in it, Aaron Burr was as the sun to 
the planets, which surround him : he bound 
them in their respective orbits, and gave them 
their light, their neat, and their motion. Let 
him not then shrink — from the high destina- 
tion, which he has courted ; and having al- 
ready ruined Blennerhassett in fortune, char- 
acter, and happiness, forever, attempt to fin- 
ish the tragedy, by thrusting that ill-fated 
man between himself and punishment. 
The royal bee, queen — of the rosy bower, 
Collects her precious sweets— from every flower. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



269 



647. Talents at. wats Ascendant. 
Talents, whenever they have had a suitable 
theatre, have never failed to emerge from ob- 
scurity, and assume their proper rank in the 
estimation of the world. The jealous pride 
of power may attempt to repress, and crush 
them ; the base, and malignant rancor of im- 
potent spleen, and envy — may strive to em- 
barrass and retard their flight : but these ef- 
forts, so far from achieving their ignoble pur- 
pose, so far from producing a discernible ob- 
liquity, in the ascent of genuine, and vigorous 
talents, will serve only to increase their mo- 
mentum, and mark their transit, with an ad- 
ditional stream of glory. 

When the great earl of Chatham — first made 
his appearance in the house of commons, and 
began to astonish, and transport the British 
parliament, and the British nation, by the 
boldness, the force, and range of his thoughts, 
and the celestial fire, and pathos of his elo- 
quence, it is well known, that the minister, 
Walpole, and his brother Horace, from mo- 
tives very easily understood, exerted all their 
wit, all their oratory, all their acquirements 
of every description, sustained and enforced 
by the unfeeling " insolence of office," to heave 
a mountain on his gigantic genius, &nd hide it 
from the world. Poor and powerless attempt ! 
The tables were turned. He rose upon them, 
in the might, and irresistible energy of his 
genius, and, in spite of all their convulsions, 
frantic agonies, and spasms, he strangled 
them, and their whole faction, with as much 
ease as Hercules did the serpent Python. 

Who can turn over the debates of the day, 
and read the account of this conflict between 
youtluul ardor, and hoary-headed cunning, 
and power, without kindling in the cause of 
the tyro, and shouting at his victory 1 That 
they should have attempted to pass off the 
grand, yet solid and judicious operations of a 
mind like his, as being mere theatrical start 
and emotion ; the giddy, hair-brained eccen- 
tricities of a romantic boy ! That they should 
have had the presumption to suppose them- 
selves capable of chaining down, to the floor 
of the parliament, a genius so etberial, tower- 
ing ana sublime, seems unaccountable ! Why 
did they not, in the next breath, by way of 
crowning the climax of vanity, bid the magnifi- 
cent fire-ball to descend from its exalted, and 
appropriate region, and perform its splendid 
tour along the surface of the earth] 

Talents, which are before the public, have 
nothing to dread, either from the jealous pride 
of power, or from the transient misrepresenta- 
tions of party, spleen, or envy. In spite of 
opposition from any cause, their buoyant spir- 
it will lift them to their proper grade. The 
man who comes fairly before the world, and 
vho possesses the great, and vigorous scami- 
i a, which entitle him to a niche in the temple 
of glory, has no reason to dread the ultimate 
result; however slow his progress may be, he 
will, in the end, most indubitably receive that 
distinction. While the rest, " the swallows of 
science," the butterflies of genius, may flutter 
for their spring; but they will soon pass 
away, and be remembered no more. No en- 
terprising man, therefore, and least of all, the 
truly great man, has reason to droop, or re- 

Eme, at any efforts, which he may suppose to 
e made, with the view to depress him. Let, 
then, the tempest of envy, or of malice howl 
around him. His genius will consecrate him ; 
and any attempt to extinguish that, will be 



as unavailing, as would a human effort " to 
quench the stars." — Wirt. 

64:8. RICH AND POOR MAN. 

So goes the world ; — if wealthy, you may call 
This, friend, */«c«, brother; friends and brothers all; 
Tlio' you are worthless — witless— never mind ft; 
You may have been a stable-boy — what then? 
'Tis wealth, good sir, makes honorable men. 
You seek respect, no doubt, and you wii Jind it 
But, if you are poor, heaven, help you ! fno' yoW 
Had royal blood within him, and tho' you Jit* 
Possess the intellect of angels, too, 
'Tis all in vain; — the world wiJl ne'er Inquire 
On such a score : — Why should it take the pain*? 
'Tis easier to weigh purses, sure, than wains. 
I once saw a poor fellow, keen, and clever, 
Witty, and wise : — he paid a man a visit, 
And no one noticed him, and no one ever [is it?" 
G ave him a welcome. "Strange," cried I, "whence 

He walked on this side, then on that, 

He tried to introduce a social chat; 

Now here, now there, in vain he tried ; 

Some formally and freezingly replied, and soma 

Said, by their silence — "Better stay at home." 

A rich man burst the door, 

As Crcesus rich; I'm sure 
He could not pride himself upon his wit, 
And as for wisdom, he had none of it ; 
He had what 's better ;— he had wealth. 

What a confusion ! — all stand up erect — 
These — crowd around to ask him of his healtL; 

These — bow in honesi duty, and respect-, 
And these — arrange a sofa or a chair, 
And these — conduct him there. 
"Allow me, sir, the honor;" — Then a bow — 
Down to the earth — Is 't possible to show 
Meet gratitude— for such kind condescension?— 
The poor man — hung his head, 
And, to himself, he said, 
"This is indeed, beyond my comprehension:" 
Then looking round, 
One friendly face he found, 
And said, " Pray tell me why is wealth preferred, 
To tvisdom?' , — u That's a silly question, friend ! v 
Replied the other — " have you never heard, 
A man may lend his store 
Of gold, or silver ore, 
But wisdom — none can borrow, none can lend?" 

THE ABUSE OF AUTHORITY. 

O, it is excellent 
Tc have a giant's strength ; but it is tyrannous 
To use it like a giant. 
Could great men thunder 

As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet: 
For every pelting, petty officer, [thunder. 

Would use his heaven for thunder; nothing but 
Merciful heaven ! 

Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt, 
Split the unwedgeable and gnarled oak, 
Than the soft myrtle. — O, but man, proud man, 
Drest in a little brief authority ; 
Most ignorant of what he 's most assur'd, 
His glassy essence, — like an angry ape, 
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven 
As make the angels weep ; who. with our spleena 
Would all themselves laugh mortal.— Shnkspeart 
»2 



*70 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



649. the maniac; mad-house. 
Stay, jailor, stay— and hear my woe ! 

She is not mad— Who kneels to thee ; 
For what I'm now— too well I know, 

For what I was — and what should be. 
I'll rave no more — in proud despair; 

Mv anguage shall he mild— though sad : 
But yet I'll firmly— truly swear, 

I am not mad — I am not mad. 

My tyrant husband — forged the tale, 

Which chains me — in this dismal cell ; 
My fate unknown — my friends bewail ; 

Uh: jailor, haste— that fate to tell; 
Oh ! haste — my father's heart to cheer : 

His heart, at once— 'twill grieve, and glad, 
To know, though kept a captive here, 

I am not mad ; — I am not mad. 

He smiles — in scorn, and turns — the key ; 

He quits the grate ; I knelt in vain ; 
His glimmering lamp, still, still I see — 

; Tis gone, and all is gloom again. 
Cold — bitter cold ! — No warmth ! no light ! 

Life, — all thy comforts once I had ; 
Yet here I'm chained, — this freezing night, 

Although not mad ; no. no, not mad. 

Tis sure some dream, — some vision vain ; 

What ! I, — the child of rank — and wealth, 
Am /the wretch — who clanks this chain, 

Bereft of freedom,— friends and health ? 
A.h! while I dwell on blessings fled, 

Which never more — my heart must glad. 
How aches my heart.— how bums my head ; 

But 'tis not mad ; — no, 'tis not mad. 

Hast thou, my child — forgot ere this, 

A mother's face, — a mother's tongue ? 
She'll ne'er forget your parting kiss, 

Nor round her neck — how fast you clung; 
Nor how with me — you sued to stay ; 

Nor how that suit — your sire forbade ; 
Nor how— I'll drive such thoughts away; 

They'll make me mad; they'll make me mad. 

His rosy lips, — how sweet they smiled ! 

His mild blue eyes, how bright they shone ! 
None — ever bore a lovelier child : 

And art thou now forever — gone ? 
And must I never see thee more, 

My pretty, pretty, pretty lad ) 
I will be free ! unbar the door ! 

I am not mad ; — I am not mad. 

Oh ! hark ! what mean those yells, and cries 1 

His chain — some furious madman breaks; 
He comes, — I see his glaring eyes ; 

Now. now — my dungeon-grate he shakes,. 
Help! help! — He's gone! Oh ! fearful wo, 

Such screams to hear, such sights, to see ! 
My brain, my brain, — I know, I know, 

I am not mad, but soon shall be. 

Yes. soon;— for, lo you ! — while I speak— 

Mark how yon Demon's eye-balls glare ! 
He sees me ; now, with dreadful shriek, 

He whirls a serpent — high in air. 
Horror !— the reptile — strikes his tooth — 
Deep in my heart, so crushed and sad ; 
Ay. laugh, ye fiends ; I feel the truth, 
Your task is donej^—1'm mad 1 I'm mad ! 
Here didst thou dwell, in the enchanted cover, 
Egeria! thy all heavenly bosom beating, 
For the far footsteps of thy mortal lover; [ing, 
The purple moonlight vail'd that mystic meet- 
W'th her most starry canopy, and, seating 
Thyself by thine adorer, what befell ? [ing 
This cave was surely shaped out for the greet- 
Of an enamor'd goddess, and the cell 
Haunted by holy love — the earliest oracle ! 
I.'iildren. like tender scions, take the bow, 
And, as they first are fashioned— always grow. 



650. THE ALPS. 

Proud monuments of God!* sublime ye start 
Among the wonders of his mighty hand : 
With summits soaring in the upper sky, [eye ; 
Where the broad day looks down with burning 
Where gorgeous clouds in solemn pomp repose, 
Flinging rich shadows on eternal snows: 
Piles of triumphant dust, ye stand alone, 
And hold in kingly state, a peerless throne! 

Like olden conquerors, on high ye rear 
The regal ensign, and the glittering spear: 
Round icy spires, the mists, in wreaths unrolled 
Float ever near, in purple or in gold : 
And voiceful torrents, sternly rolling there, 
Fill with wild music, the unpillared air : 
What garden, or what hall on earth beneath, 
Thrills to such tones, as o'er the mountain* 
breathe ? [shone, 

There, through long ages past, those summits 
Where morning radiance on their state was 

thrown ; 
There, when the summer day's career was done, 
Played the last glory of the sinking sun : 
There, sprinkling lustre o'er the cataract's shade, 
The chastened moon, her glittering rainbow 

made ; 
And, blent with pictured stars, her lustre lay, 
Where to still vales,the free streams leaped away . 

Where are the thronging hosts of other days, 
Whose banners floated o'er the Alpine ways; 
Who, through their high defiles, to battle, wound, 
While deadly ordnance stirr'd the h'ights around] 
Gone ; like the dream, that melts at early morn, 
When the lark's anthem through the sky is, borne: 
Gone; like the wrecks, that sink in ocean's spray, 
And chill oblivion murmur3 ; Where are they ? 

Yet, "Alps on Alps" still rise ; the lofty home 
Of storms, and eagles, where their pinions roam 
Still, round their peaks, the magic colors lie, 
Of morn, and eve, imprinted on the sky ; 
And still, while kings and thrones, shall fadu, 

and fall, 
And empty crowns iie dim upon the pall ; [roar; 
Still, shall their glaciers flash ; their torrents 
Till kingdoms fail, and nations rise no more. 

Adherence to Truth. Petrarch, a cele- 
brated Italian poet, who flourished about four 
hundred years ago, recommended himself to 
the confidence and affection of Cardinal Co- 
lonna, in whose family he resided, by his can- 
dor, and strict adherence to truth. A violent 
quarrel occurred in the household of this 
nobleman ; which was carried so far, that re- 
course was had to arms. The Cardinal wish- 
ed to know the foundation of this affair; and 
that he might be able to decide with justice, 
he assembled all his people, and obliged them 
to bind themselves, by a most solemn oath 
on the gospels, to declare the whole truth. 
Every one, without exception, submitted to 
this determination ; even the Bishop of Luna, 
brother to the Cardinal was not excused. 
Petrarch, in his turn, presenting himself to 
take the oath ; the Cardinal closed the book 
and said, "As to you, Petrarch,your icord U 
sufficient." 

'Tis done, and since 'tis done, 'tis pact recall; 

And since 'tis past recall, must be forgotten 

Never purchase friendship by gifts. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



271 



651. Modern Republics. Where are 
the republics of modern times, which cluster' d 
round immortal Italy! Venice, and Genoa 
exist, but in name. The Alps, indeed, look 
down upon the brave and peaceful Swiss, in 
their native fastnesses ; but the guaranty of 
their freedom is in their weakness, and not in 
their strength. The mountains are not easily 
crossed, and the valleys are not easily retain- 
ed. When the invader comes, he moves like 
an avalanche, carrying destruction in his 
path. The peasantry sink before him. The 
country is too poor for plunder ; and too rough 
for valuable conquest. Nature presents her 
eternal barriers, on every side, to check the 
wantonness of ambition ; and Switzerland re- 
mains, with her simple institutions, a military 
road to fairer climates, scarcely worth a per- 
manent possession. 

We stand the latest, and, if we fail, probably 
the last experiment of self-government by the 
people. We have begun it, under circum- 
stances of the most auspicious nature. We 
are in the vigor of youth. Our growth has 
never been checked, by the oppressions of 
tyranny. Our constitutions have never been 
enfeebled by the vices, or luxuries of the old 
world. Such as we are, we have been from 
the beginning; simple, hardy, intelligent, ac- 
customed to self-government, and self-respect. 
The Atlantic rolls between us, and any for- 
midable foe. Within our own territory, 
stretching through many degrees of latitude 
and longitude, we have the choice of many 
products, and many means of independence. 
The government is mild. The press is free. 
Knowledge reaches, or may reach, every 
home. What fairer prospect of success could 
be presented 1 What means more adequate 
to accomplish the sublime end 1 What more 
is necessary, than for the people to preserve, 
what they themselves have created 1 

Already has the age caught the spirit of our 
institutions. It has already ascended the An- 
des, and snuffed the breezes of both oceans. 
It has infused itself into the life-blood of Eu- 
rope, and warmed the sunny plains of France, 
and the lowlands of Holland. It has touched 
the philosophy of Germany, and the North, 
and, moving onward to the South, has opened 
to Greece the lessons of her better days. 

Can it be, that America, under such cir- 
cumstances, can betray herself] that she is 
to be added to the catalogue of republics, the 
inscription upon whose ruins is — "They 
were, but they are not." Forbid it, my coun- 
trymen ; forbid it, Heaven ! — Story. 

G5'2. RAZOR SELLER. 

A fellow, in a market-town, 

Most musical, cried razors, up and down, 
And offered twelve — for eighteen-pence ; 

Wh. I - !, certainly, seem'd wondrous cheap, 

And, for the money, quite a heap, 
That every man would buy, with cash and sense. 

A country bumpkin the great offer heard; 

Poor Hodge, who suffer'd by a broad black beard, 
Fhat seemed a shoe-brush, stuck beneath his nose. 

With cheerfulness, the eighteen-pence he paid, 

And, proudly, to himself, in whispers said — 
• This rascal stole the razors, I suppose. 

« No matter, if the fellow be a knave, 

Provided that the razors shave; 
,* certainly will be a monstrous prize." 



So home the clown, with nis good fcrtnna went, 

Smiling,— in heart and soul content. 
And quickly soaped himself to ears and eyes. 
Being well lathered, from a dish or tub, 
Hodge now began, with grinning pain, to grub— - 
Just like a hedger, cutting furze : 
Twas a vile razor !— then the rest he tried;— 
All were impostors. " Ah !" Hodge sig led, 
" I wish my eighteen-pence was in my pu:se." 
In vain, to chase his beard, and bring the grace* 
He cut and dug, and whined, and stamp'd, sad 
swore ; 
Bro't blood, and dane'd, olasphem'd and made wiy 
And curs'd each razor's body,o'er and o'er.[face% 
His muzzle, formed of opposition stuff, 
Firm as a Foxite, would not lose its ruff; 
So kept it — laughing at the steel, and suds. 
Hodge, in a passion, stretched his angry jaws, 
Vowing the direst veng'nee, with clench'd 3laws, 
On the vile cheat that sold the goods. 
"Razors! a vile, confounded dog! — 
Not fit to scrape a hog I" 

Hodge sought the fellow— found him— and begun, 
" P'rhaps, Master Razor-rogue ! to you, 'tis fun, 
That people flay themselves out of their lives. 
You rascal ! for an hour, have I been grubbing, 
Giving my crying whiskers here a scrubbing, 
With razors, just like oyster-knives. 
Sirrah ! I tell you, you 're a knave, 
To cry up razors that can't shaved 
"Friend," quoth the razor man, " I'm not a knave,, 
As for the razors you have bought, — 
Upon my soul, I never thought 

That they would shave." 
" Not think they'd shave?" quoth Hodge, v;itl 

wond'ring eyes, 
And voice, not much unlike an Indian yell, 
"What were they made for then, you dog?" he cries. 
" Made !" quoth the fellow, with a smile, " to sill.* 
653. Universal Emancipation. I 
speak — in the spirit — of the British law, 
which makes liberty — commensurate with 
and inseparable from, the British soil, — which 
proclaims, even to the stranger and the so- 
journer, the moment he sets his foot upon 
British earth, that the ground on which he 
treads — is holy, and consecrated — by the ge- 
nius of Universal Emancipation. Nt 
matter in what language — his doom ma> 
have been pronounced; no matter what coni 
plexion — incompatible with freedom, an In • 
dian, or an African sun may have burnt upon 
him ; no matter in what disastrous battle — hra 
liberty may have been cloven down; no mat- 
ter with what solemnities — he may have been 
devoted — upon the altar of slavery ; the first 
moment — he touches the sacred soil of Britain, 
the altar, and the god, sink together in the 
dust ; his soul walks abroad in her own ma- 
jesty ; his body swells beyond the measure 
of his chains, that burst from around him, 
and he stands redeemed, regenerated, and 
disenthralled, by the irresistible genius of 
Universal Emancipation. — Grattan. 
When breezes are soft, and skies aie fair, 
I steal an hour from study and care, 
And hie me away — to the woodland scene 
Where wanders the stream with waters of grees 
As if the bright fringe — of herbs on its brink 
Had given their stain, to the wave they drink. 



2T2 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



654. ginevba; ob lost bride. 
If ever you should come to Modena, 
Stop at a palace, near the Reggio-gate, 
Dwelt in, of old, by one of the Donati. 
Its noble gardens, terrace, above terrace, 
And rich in fountains, statues, cypresses, 
Will long detain you — but before you go, 
Enter the house — forget it not, I pray you — 
And look awhile upon a picture there 
Tis of a lady, in her earliest youth, 
The last, of that illustrious family ; 
Done by Zampieri — but by whom I care not 
He, who observes it — ere he passes on, 
Gazes his fill, and comes, and comes again, 
That he may call it up, when far away. 
She sits, inclining forward, as to speak, 
Her lips half open, and her finger up, 
As though she said, " Beware !" her vest of gold, 
Broidered with flowers, and clasp'd from head to 
An emerald stone, in every golden clasp ; [foot, 
And on her brow, fairer than alabaster, 
A coronet of pearls. 

But then her face, 
So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth, 
The overflowing — of an innocent heart — 
t haunts me still, though many a year has fled, 
lake some wild melody ! 

Alone it hangs, 
Over a mouldering heir-loom; its companion, 
<Vn oaken chest, half-eaten by the worm, 
But richly carved, by Antony of Trent, 
With Bcripture-stories, from the life of Christ ; 
A chest, that came from Venice, and had held 
The ducal robes — of some old ancestors — 
That, by the way — it may be true, or false — 
But don't forget the picture ; and you will not, 
When you have heard the tale, they told me there. 
She was an only child — her name — Ginevra, 
The joy. the pride — of an indulgent father ; 
And, in her fifteenth year, became a bride, 
Marrying an only son, Francesco Doria, 
Her playmate, from her birth, and her first love. 
Just as she looks there, in her bridal dress, 
She was; all gentleness, all gayety ; 
Her pranks, the favorite theme of every tongue. 
But now, the day was come, the day, the hour ; 
Now, frowning, smiling, for the hundredth time, 
The nurse, that ancient lady, preached decorum ; 
And, in the lustre of her youth, she gave 
1 ler hand, with her heart in it, to Francesco. 
Ci'reat was the joy ; but, at the nuptial feast, [ing. 
When all sat down, the bride herself— was want- 
Nor was she to be found ! Her father cried, 
" Tis but to make a trial of our love !" 
And Riled his glass to all ; but his hand shook, 
And soon from guest to guest — the panic spread. 
Twas but that instant — she had left Francesco, 
Laughing, and looking back, and flying still, 
llcr ivory tooth — imprinted on his finger. 
But now, alas ! she was not to be found; 
Nor, from that hour, could anything be guessed, 
But, that she was not ! 

Weary- of his life, 
Francesco — flew to Venice, and, embarking, 
Flung it away, in battle with the Turk. 
Donati lived— and long might you have seen 
An old man, wanderirjg— as in quest of something, 



Something he could not find— he knew not whit 

When he was gone, the house remained awhile, 

Silent, and tenantless— then, went to strangers. 

Full fifty years were past, and all forgotten, 

When, on an idle day, a day of search, 

Mid the old lumber, in the gallery, [said^ 

That mouldering chest was noticed ; and, : tWM 

By one as young, as thoughtless as Ginevra, 

" Why not remove it from its lurking-place?" 

'Twas done, as soon as said ; but, on the way, 

It burst, it fell ; and lo ! a skeleton ! 

With here and there a pearl, and emerald stone, 

A golden clasp, clasping a shred of gold. 

Ail else— had perished— save a wedding ring, 

And a small seal, her mother's legacy, 

Engraven with a name, the name of both — 

" Ginevra.' 1 '' 

There, then, had she found a grave ! 

Within that chest, had she concealed herself, 

Fluttering with joy, the happiest of the happy; 

When a spring-lock, that lay in ambush there, 

Fastened her down forever ! — Rogers. 

THE NEEDLE. 

The gay belles of fashion, may boast of excelling, 

In waltz, or cotillion, at whist or quadrille; 
And seek admiration, by vauntingly telling — 

Of drawing, and painting, and musical skill ; 
But give me the fair one, in country or city, 

Whose home, and its duties, are dear to her heartf 
Who cheerfully warbles some rustical ditty, 

While plying the needle, with exquisite art ; 
The bright little needle, the swift flying needle. 

The needle — directed by beauty, and art. 
If love has a potent, a magical token, 

A talisman, ever resistless, and true, 
A charm, that is never evaded or broken, 

A witchery, certain the heart to subdue, 
Tis this, and his armory — never has furnished, 

So keen, and unerring, or polished a dart, 
(Let beauty direct it.) so pointed, and burnished, 

And, oh! it is certain — of touching the heart, 
The bright little needle, the swift flying needle, 

The needle — directed by beauty, and art. 
Be wise, then, ye maidens, nor seek admiratio-L, 

By dressing — for conquest, and. flirting — with ad 
You never, whate'er be your fortune, or staiion, 

Appear half so lovely, at rout, or at ball, 
As— gaily conven'd at the «,-or£-covered table, 

Each— cheerfully active, and playing her part. 
Beguiling the /as/fc, 'with a s° n Si or * fable, 

And plying the needle— with exquisite art; 
The bright little needle— -the long darning needle, 

The swift knitting needle, the needle, directed b» 
beauty and abt. — Woodworth. 
In parts superior, what advantage lies? 
Tell, (for you can) what is it to be wise? 
Tis but to know how little can be known ; 
To see all others' faults, and feel our own; 
Condemn'd in business, or in arts to drudge, 
Without a second, or without a judge. 
Truths would you teach, to save a sirking lani 
All fear, none aid you, and few — understand. 

Even from the body's purity, the mind 
Receives a secret sympathetic aid. 
Not rural sight alone, but rura'i sounds. 
Exhilarate the spirits. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 






659* An an a ast> Jefferson. They have 
gone to the companions of fcheir ca^as, of their 
toHs. It is well with them. The treasures of 
America are now in Heaven. How long the 
tist of our good, and wise, and brave, assem- 
bled there ! how few remain with us ! There 
is our Washington ; and those who followed 
him in their country's confidence, are now 
met together with him, and all that illustrious 
company. 

The faithful marble may preserve their 
image; the engraven brass may proclaim 
their worth ; but the humblest sod of inde- 

Sendent America, with nothing but the dew- 
rops of the morning to gild it, is a prouder 
mausoleum than kings or conquerors can 
boast. The country is their monument. Its 
independence is their epitaph. 

But not to their country is their praise lim- 
ited. The whole earth is the monument of 
illustrious men. Wherever an agonizing 
people shall perish, in a generous convul- 
sion, for want of a valiant arm and a fearless 
heart, they will cry, in the last accents of de- 
spair, Oh, for a Washington, an Adams, a 
Jefferson ! Wherever a regenerated nation, 
starting up in its might, shall burst the links 
of steel that enchain it, the praise of our fa- 
thers shall be the prelude of their triumphal 
song. 

The contemporary and successive genera- 
tions of men will disappear. In the long 
lapse of ages, the tribes of America, like those 
of Greece and Rome, may pass away. The 
fabric of American freedom, like all things 
human, however firm and fair, may crumble 
into dust. But the cause in which these our 
fathers shone is immortal. They did that, to 
which no age, no people of reasoning men, 
can be indifferent. 

Their eulogy will be uttered in other lan- 
guages, when those we speak, like us who 
speak them, shall all be forgotten. And when 
the great account of humanity shall be closed 
at the throne of God, in the bright list of his 
children, who best adorned and served it, 
shall be found the names of our Adams and 
our Jefferson. — Everett. 

656. SXCLE OF ERIN. 

There came to the beach — a poor exHe of Erin, 

The dew, on his thin robe, hung heavy and chill; 
For his country he sigh'd, when, at twilight repair- 
To wander alone, by the wind-beaten hill : [ing, 
But the day-star — attracted his eyes' sad devotion, 
For it rose — on his own native Isle of the Ocean, 
Where once, in the glow of his youthful emotion, 
He eung the bold anthem— of Erin Go Bkagh! 
O, sad is my fate ! said the heart-broken stranger, 

The wild deer and wolf, to a covert can flee ; 
But I — have no refuge — from famine, or danger, 
A home, and a country-— remain not for me ; 
A h! never, again, in the green sunny bow'rs, [hours, 
Where my forefathers liv'd, shall I spend the sweet 
Or cover my harp, with the wild woven flowers, 
And strike to the numbers — of Erin Go Bragh! 
O, where is my cottage, that stood by the wild wood? 
listers and sires, did ye weep for its fall? [hood, 
O. where is the mother, that watch'd o'er my child- 
Ar.d where is the bosom-friend, dearer than all ? 
Ah ! my sad soul, long abnndoned by pleasure, 
O, w hy did it doat — on a fast fading treasure — 
Te«rs, like the rain-drops, may fall, without mea- 
BiU ranture, and beauty, they cannot recall ! [sure, 
81XONSON. 18 



Erin, my country, though sad and forstken, 
In dreams, I revisit thy sea-beaten shore ! 
But alas ! in a far distant land I awaken, [mora! 
And sigh for the friends, who can meet me im 
O, hard, cruel fate, wilt thou never replace me, 
In a mansionof peace.where no Deril cau chase met 
All ! never, again, shall my brothenB embrace roe, 
They died to defend me, or live — to deplore ! 

But yet, all its fond recollections suppressing, 

One dying wish — my lone bosom shall draw : 
Erin, an exile bequeaths thee his blessing, 
Land of my forefathers, Erin Go Bragh! 
Buried and cold, when my heart stills its motion, 
Green be thy fields, sweetest isle of the ocean, 
And thy harp-striking bards sing aloud with de*<* 
O, Erin ma vorneen, Erin Go Bragh ! [tion, 

65 7. THE HYPOCRITE. 

He was a man, 
Who stole the livery— of the court of heaven, 
To serve the devil in ; in virtue's guise, 
Devoured the widow's house, and orphan's bread 
In holy phrase, transacted villanies, 
That common sinners — durst not meddle with. 
At sacred feast, he sat among the saints, 
And with his guilty hands — touched holiest thinya. 
And none of sin lamented more, or sighed 
More deeply, or with graver countenance. 
Or longer prayer, wept o'er the dying man, 
Whose infant children, at the moment, he 
Planned how to rob. In sermon-style he bought 
And sold, and lied ; and salutation made, 
In scripture terms. He prayed, by quantity, 
And with his repetitions, long and loud, 
All knees were weary. With one hand, he put 
A penny — in the urn of poverty, 
And with the other— took a shilling out. 
On charitable lists, — those trumps, which told 
The public ear, who had, in secret, done 
The poor a benefit, and half the alms [ing. 

They told of, toek themselves to keep them souku- 
He blazed his name, more pleased to have it there, 
Than in the book of life. Seest thou the man ! 
A serpent with an angel's voice! a grave, [ceiv'd. 
With flowers bestrewed ! and yet, few were de- 
His virtues, being over-done, his face, 
Too grave, his prayers too long, his charities, 
Too pompously attended, and his speech, 
Larded too frequently, and out of time, 
With serious phraseology, — were rents, 
That in his garments opened, in spite of him, 
Thro' which, the well accustomed eye, could see 
The rottenness of his heart. None deeper blush'd, 
As in the all-piercing light he stood, exposed, 
No longer herding — with the holy ones. 
Yet still he tried to bring his countenance — 
To sanctimonious seeming ; but, meanwhile, 
The shame within, now visible to all, 
His purpose balk'd. The righteous amil'd, and eyet 
Despair itself, some signs of laughter gave, 
As, ineffectually, he strove to wipe 
His brow, that inward guiltiness defiled. 
Detected wretch! of all the reprobate, 
None seem'd more mature — for the flames of ho& 
Where still his face, from ancient custom, wears 
A holy air, which says to all that pass 
Him by, " I was a hypocrite on earth." -Poliock. 



874 



READINGS AND RECHAIHotj. 



658. .'ARKUASIUS AND CAITIVE. 



•M'anliasius, * painter of Athens, amongst (hose Oiynthian cap- 
tives Philip of Mace.lnn l>r>uihi home h) sell, bought one very old 
■nan ; tod when he had him at his house, put him to ileal li with 
wlmup torture and torment, the better, by his vxample, to express 
wie \a.us and passions of his Prometheus, whom he was then 
•bcut tc paiul Burtr.n'i Anat. of Md. 
There stood an unsold captive in the mart, 
A gray-haired and innjestica] okl man, 
Chained to a pillar. It was almost night, 
And the last seller from his place had gone, 
And not a sound was heard but of a dog 
Crunching beneath the stall u refuse bone, 
Or the dull echo from the pavement rung, 
As the fai.il captive changed his weary feet. 
Twas evening, and the half-descended sun 
Tipped with a golden fire the many domes 
Of Athens, and a yellow atmosphere 
Lay rich and dusky in the shaded street 
Through which the captive gazed. 
The golden light into the painter's room 
Streamed richly, and the hidden colors stole 
From the dark pictures radiantly forth, 
And in the soft and dewy atmosphere, 
Like forms and landscapes, magical they lay. 
Parrhasius stood, gazing, forgetfully, 
Upon his canvas. There Prometheus lay 
Chained to the cold rocks of Mount Caucasus — 
The vulture at his vitals, and the links 
Of the lame Lemnian festering in his flesh; 
And. as the painter's mind felt through the dim, 
Rapt mystery, and plucked the shadows forth 
With its far-reaching fancy, and with form 
And color clad them, his fine, earnest eye, 
Flashed with a passionate fire, and the quick curl 
Of his thin nostril, and his quivering lip [flight. 
Were like the winged God's, breathing from his 
" Bring me the captive now! 
My hands feel skillful, and the shadows lift 
From my waked spirit airily and swift, 
And I could paint the bow 
Upon the bended heavens — around me play 
Colors of such divinity to-day. 

Ha! bind him on his back! 
Look : — as Prometheus In my picture here' 
Quick— or he faints! stand with the cordia. near! 

Now — bend him to the rack ! 
Press down the poison'd links into his flesh! 
And tear agape that healing wound afresh j 

So — ret him writhe ! How long 
Will he live thus? Quick, my good pencil, now! 
What a fine agony works upon his brow ! 

Ha ! gray-haired, and so strong ! 
How fearfully he stifles that short moan! 
Gods! if I could but paint a dying groan! 

u Pity" thee ! So I do ! 
l pity the dumb victim at the altar — 
ftat does the rob'd priest for his pity falter? 

I'd rack thee though I knew 
/i thousand lives were perishing in thine — 
What were ten thousand to a fame like mine? 

Yet there's a deathless name ! 
A spirit that the smothering vault shall spurn, 
And like a steadfast planet mount and burn — 

And though its crown of flame 
Consumed my brain to ashes as it shone, 
By nil the fiery stars! I'd bind it on 1 

A3/ — though it bid me rifle 
My heart's last fount for its insatiate thirst—' 
Though every life-strung nerve be maddened first ; 

1 hough "t should bid me stifle 
The yearning in my throat for my Bweet child, 
And taunt its mother till my brain went wild — 

All— I would do it all — 
Booner than die, like a dull worm, to rot- 
Thrust foully into earth to be forgot! 

O heavens — but I appal 

Your heart, old man ! forgi ve ha ! on vour livei 

•*et him not faint? — rack him till he revives! 

Vain— vain— give o'er ! His eye 



Glazes apace. He does nol feel you niw—- 
Stand back ! I'll paini the dealh-uevr 01 his >*&$$ 

Gods ! if he do not die 
But lor one moment— one — till I eclipse 
Concept on with the scorn of those calm lip*; 

Shivering! Hark! he mutters 
Brokenly now— that was a difficult breath 
Another? Wilt thou never come, oh. Deal) ' 

Look ! how his temples flutter! 
Is his heart still ? Aha! lift up his head ! 
He shudders, gasps, Jove help him ! so, he'a *••* 

How like a mounting devil in the heart 
Rules the unreigned ambition! Lei itonce 
But play the monarch, and its haughty brov 
Glows with a beauty that bewilders thought, 
And unthrones peace forever. Putting on 
The very pomp of Lucifer, it turns 
The heart to ashes, and with not a spring 
Left in the bosom for the spirit's lip, 
We look upon our splendor and forget 
The ihirst of which we perish ! 
O. if earth be all, and Heaven nothing. 
What thrice mocked fools we are ! — Willis. 

NATUKAL HISTORY OF LOVE, 
Addressed to Dr. Moyce by the ladies. 
Dear doctor, let it not transpire, 
How much your lectures we admire ; 
How, at your eloquence we wonder, 
When you explain the cause of thunder, 
Of lightning, and electricity, 
With so much plainness, and simplicity; 
The origin of rocks, and mountains, 
Of seas, and rivers, lakes, and fountains; 
Of rain, and hail, and frost, and snow, 
And all the storms, and winds that baxr' 
Besides a hundred wonder; more, 
Of which we never heard before. 
But now, dear doctor, not to flatter, 
There is a most important matter, 
A matter which our thoughts run much OB, 
A matter, which you never touch on, 
A subject, if we right conjecture, 
That well deserves a long, long lecture, 
Which all the ladies would approve, — 
The natural history of love ! 
Deny us not, dear doctor Moyce ! 
Oh, list to our entreating voice! 
Tell us why our poor, tender hearts, 
So easily admit love's darts. 
Teach us the marks — of love's beginning, 
What makes us think a beau so winning ■ 
"What makes us think a coxcomb, witty, 
A black coat, wise, a red coat— pretty ! 
Why we believe such horrid iies, 
That we are angels, fiom the skies, 
Our teeth like pearl, our cheeks like roses, 
Our eyes like stars — such charming noses! 
Explain our dreams, awake, and sleeping, 
Explain our blushing, laughing, weeping. 
Teach us, dear doctor, if you can, 
To humble that proud creature, man ; 
To turn the wise ones into fools, 
The proud and insolent to tools ; a 

To make them all run, helter-ske.ter, 
Their necks— into the marriage-halter: 
Then leave us to ourselves with these ; 
We'll turn and rule them as we please, 
Dear doctor, if you grant our wishes, 
We promise you — five-hundred kisses ; 
And, rather than the affair be blundered, 
We'll give you — six-score to the hundred. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS, 



9.71 



659. SPEECH OF BELIAL, DISSUADING WAR. 

I should he much for open war, oh peers, 
As not behind in hate, if what were urged, 
Main reason to persuade immediate war, 
Did not dissuade me more, and seem to cast 
Ominous conjecture on the whole success ; 
When lie, who most excels in tact of arms, 
In what he counsels, and in what excels, 
Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair, 
And utter dissolution as the scope 
Of all his aim, after some dire revenge. [fibed 
first, what revenge?— The towers of heaven are 
With armed watch, that render all access 
Impregnable: oft, on the bordering deep, 
Encamp their legions : or with obscure wing, 
Scout far and wide, into the realms of night, 
Scorning surprise. Or could we break our way 
By force, and at our heels, all hell should rise, 
With blackest insurrection, to confound 
Heaven's purest light ; yet our great enemy, 
All incorruptible, would, on his throne, 
Sit, unpolluted ; and the etherial mold, 
Incapable of slain, would soon expel 
Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire, 
Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hope — 
Is flat despair; we must exasperate 
The almighty victor— to spend all his rage, 
And that must end us; that — must be our cure, — 
To be no more. — Sad cure ! — for who would lose, 
Though full of pain, this intellectual being, 
Those thoughts, that wander through eternity, — 
To perish rather, swallowed up, and lost, 
In the wide tomb of uncreated night, 
Devoid of sense, and motion? — And who knows 
(Let this be good) whether our angry foe 
Can give it, or will ever? How he can, 
Is doubtful ; that he never will, is sure. 
W : !l he, so wise, let loose at once his ire, 
Belike through impotence, or unawares, 
To give his enemies their wish, and end 
Them in his anger, whom his anger saves 
To punish endless? — "Wherefore cease ye then?" 
Say they, who counsel war ; " we are decreed, 
Reserved, and destined — to eternal wo : 
Whatever doing, — what can we suffer more, 
What can we suffer worse?" Is this then worst. 
Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms? 
What, when we fled amain, pursued and struck 
With heaven's afflicting tkunder, and besought 
The deep to shelter us? this hell, then, seemed 
A refuge — from those wounds ! or, when we lay, 
Chained en the burning lake? that sure was worse. 
What if the breath, that kindled those grim fires, 
Awaked, should blow them into seven-fold rage, 
And plunge us in the flames? or, from above, 
Should intermitted vengeance — arm again 
His red right hand to plague us? what if all 
Her stores were opened, and this firmament 
Of hell— should spout her cataracts of fire, 
Impending horrors, threatening hideous fall, 
One day upon our heads; while we, perhaps, 
Designing, or exhorting glorious war, 
Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurled, 
Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey 
Of racking whirlwinds ; or, for ever sunk 
Under yon boiling ocean, wrapped in chains; 
There to converse— with everlasting groans, 



Unrespited, unpilied, unrepneved. 
Ages— of hopeless end?— this would be wenw. 
War. therelbre, open and concealed, alike 
My voice dissuades. — Milton. 

Pompki i. How serenely slept the staj -light 
on that lovely city ! how breathlessly its pil- 
lared streets reposed in their security ! how 
softly rippled the dark, green wave a beyond! 
how cloudless spread aloft and blue the dream- 
ing C*mpanian skies! Yet this was the last 
night for the gay Pompeii ! the colony of the 
hoar Chaldean! the fabled city of Heicules! 
the delight of the voluptuous Roman! Age 
after age had rolled indestructivc, unloedecL 
over its head ; and now the last ray quivered 
on the dial plate of its doom ! 

660. the beggar's PKTir.a. 
Pity the sorrows | of a poor old man, [door; 

Whose trembling limbs | have borne him to your 
Whose days are dwindled | to the shortest span; 

Oh ! give relief, and Heav'n will bless your store 
These tatter'd clothes | my poverty bespeak, 

These hoary locks proclaim my lengthen'd year*; 
And many a furrow | in my grief- worn .cheeic, 

Has been the channel | to a flood of tears. 
Yon house, erected | on the rising ground, 

With tempting aspect | drew me from my road, 
For plenty there | a residence has founl, 

And grandeur | a magnificent abode. 
Hard is the fate | of the infirm, and poor! 

Here, as I crav'd | a morsel of their bread, 
A pamper'd menial | drove me from the dooi, 

To seek a shelter | in an humbler shed, 
O' . take me | to your hospitable dome ; 

Keen blows the wind, | and piercing is the cold'. 
Short is my passage | to the friendly tomb ; 

For I am poor, and miserably old. 
Should I reveal the sources | of my giief, 

If soft humanity | e'er touch'd your breast, 
Your hands would not | withhold the kind reLe£ 

And tears of pity | would not be represt. 
Heav'n sends misfortunes; why should we repine? 

'Tis Heav'n has bro't me | to the state you see; 
And your condition | may be soon like mine, 

The child of sorrow | and of misery. 
A little farm | was my paternal lot; 

Then, like the lark, I sprightly hail'd the mom.; 
But ah ! oppression | fore'd me from my cot, 

My cattle died, and blighted was my corn. 
My daughter, once the comfort of my age, 

Lur'd by a villain | from her native home, 
Is cast, abandon'd, on the world's wide stage, 

And doom'd | in scanty poverty to roam. 
My tender wife, sweet soother of my care ! 

Struck with sad anguish | at the stern decree, 
Fell, ling'ring fell, a victim to despair; 

And left the world | to wretchedness and me. 
Pity the sorrows | of a poor old man, [door ; 

Whose trembling limbs | have borne him to your 
Whose days are dwindled | to the shortest spanj 

Oh ! give relief, and Heav'n will bless your skwe> 
Canst thou adminiiter— to a mind diseased ? 
Pluck— from the memory— a rootod sorrow, 
Raze out the written troubles — of the brain: 
And with some sweet — oblivious antidote- 
Cleanse — the ituffed bosom — of that per ilor.i itaM, 
Which weighs — upon the heart? 



276 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



661. CATO'S SENATE. 

Cato. Fathers, we once again arc met in conn- 
Cesar's approach has summou'd us together, [cil. 
And Home attends her fate from our resolves. 
How shali we treat this bold aspiring man ? 
Success still follows him, and backs his crimes. 
Pharsalia — gave him Rome : Egypt— has since 
Received his yoke, and the whole Nile is Cesar's. 
Why should I mention Juba's overthrow, 
And Scipio's death ? Numidia's burning sands, 
Btill smoke with blood. 'Tis time we should 

decree 
What course to take. Our foe advances on us, 
ind envies us, even Libya's sultry deserts. 
Fathers, pronounce your thoughts : are they still 
To hold it out, and fight it to the last? [fixed 
Or, are your hearts subdued at length, and wro't, 
By time and ill success, to a submission 1 
Bempnnius, speak. — 

Sempronius. My voice is still for war. 
Gods ! can a Roman senate long debate, 
Which of the two to choose, slavery, or death ? 
JVo ; let us rise at once, gird on our swords, 
And, at the head of our remaining troops, 
Attack the foe, break through the thick array 
Of his thronged legions, and charge home upon 
Perhaps some arm. more lucky than the rest, [him. 
May reach his heart, and free the world — from 

bondage. 
Rise, fathers, rise! 'tis Rome demands your help; 
Rise, and revenge her slaughtered citizens, 
Or share their fate ! The corpse of half her senate 
Manure the fields of Thessaly, while we 
Sit here, deliberating in cold debates, 
If we should sacrifice our lives to honor, 
Or wear them out in servitude, and chains. 
Rouse ur>, for shame ! our brothers of Pharsalia 
Point at their wounds, and cry aloud — To battle I 
G'eat Pvnpey's shade — complains that we are 
slow, [us! 

And Scipio's ghost — walks unreversed, amongst 

Cato. Let not a torrent of impetuous zeal — 
Transport thee thus, beyond the bounds of rea- 
True fortitude is seen, in great exploits, [son : 
That justice warrants, and that wisdom guides : 
All else is towering frenzy and distraction. 
Are not the lives of those, who draw the sword, 
In Rome's defence, intrusted to our care ? 
Should we thus lead them to a field of slaughter, 
Might not the impartial world, with reason, say, 
We lavished at our deaths, the blood of thousands, 
To grace our falL, and make our ruin glorious ; 
Lucius, we next would know what's your opinion, 

Lucius. My thoughts, I must confess, are 
turned on peace. 
Already, have our quarrels filled the world — 
With widows and with orphans: Scythia mourns 
Our guilty wars, and earth's remotest regions — 
Lie half-unpeopled, by the feuds of Rome: [kind. 
•Tis time to sheathe the sword, and spare man- 
It is not Cesar, but the gods, my fathers, 
The gods declare against us, and repel 
Our vain atiempts. To urge the foe to battle, 
(Prompted by blind revenge, and wild desn-air,) 
Were to refuse the awards of Providence, 
And mt to rest in Heaven's determination. 
Already have we shown our love to Rome ; 
Now, let us show submission to the gods. 
We took i*p 4.7ms, not to revenge ourselves, 
But free the commonwealth ; when this end fails, 
Arms have i o further use : our country's cause, 
That drew o «r swords, now wrests 'e in from our 
And bids U3 lot delight in Roman blood, [hands, 
TJnpTifitably shed : what men could do — 
Is done already : heaven and earth — will witness, 
Jf— Rome — must— fall, that we are innocent. 

Semp. This smooth discourse, and mild behav- 
Conceal a traitor — something whispers me[ioroft 
All is not right— Cato beware of Lucius. 

Cato. Let us appear — nor rash, nor diffident : 
Immoderate valor— swells into a fault ; 
And fear, admitted into pufaii) councils, 



Betrays — like treason. Let us shun 'cm hot)l 
Fathers, I cannot see that our affairs [round oq 
Are grown thus desperate: we have bulwark* 
Within our walls, are troops— inured to toil, 
In Afric's heats, and seasoned to the sun ; 
Numidia's spacious kingdom lies behind us, 
Ready to rise, at its young prince's call. 
While there is hope, do not distrust the gods ; 
But wait, at least, till Cesar's near approach 
Force us to yield. 'Twill never be too late 
To sue for chains, and own a conqueror. 
AVhy should Rome fall a moment, ere her time 1 
No, let us draw her term of freedom out, 
In its full length, and spin it to the last. 
So, shall we gain still one day's liberty ; 
And let me perish ; but, in Cato's judgment, 
A day, an hour, of virtuous liberty, 
Is worth a whole eternity— in bondage.— dddifin. 

662. God is Nature. — There is religion 
in every thing around us — a calm and holy 
religion, in the unbreathing things of nature, 
which man would do well to imitate. It is a 
meek and blessed influence, stealing in as it 
were, unawares upon the heart. It comes 
quietly, and without excitement. It has no 
terror, no gloom in its approaches. It does 
not rouse up the passions ; it is un trammeled 
by the creeds, and unshadowed by the super- 
stitions of man. It is fresh from the hands of 
its author, glowing from the immediate pres- 
ence of the Great Spirit, which pervades and 
quickens it- 
It is written on the arched sky. It looki 
out from every star. It is on the sailing 
cloud, and in the invisible wind. It is among 
the hills and valleys of the earth — where the 
shrubless mountain-top — pierces the thin at- 
mosphere of eternal winter — or where the 
mighty forest fluctuates, before the strong 
wind, with its dark waves of green foliage. It 
is spread out like a legible language, upon 
the broad face of the unsleeping ocean. It is 
the poetry of nature. It is this which uplifts 
the spirit within us, until it is strong enough 
to overlook the shadows of our place of pro 
bation ; which breaks, link after link, the 
chain that binds us to materiality ; and 
which opens to our imagination a world of 
spiritual beauty and holiness. 

play-place of early days. 
Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise, 
We love the play-place of our early days ; 
The scene is touching, and the heart is stone, 
That feels not at that sight, and feels at none. 
The wall on which we tried our graving skill, 
The very name we carv'd subsisting still ; 
The bench on which we sat while deep employ'd. 
Though mangled, hacked, and hewed, not yd 

destroyed ; 
The little ones, unbutton'd, glowing hot, 
Playing our games, and on the very spot; 
As happy as we once, to kneel and draw 
The chalky ring, and knuckle down at tavr ', 
To pitch the ball into the grounded hat, 
Or drive it devious with a dextrous pat ; 
The pleasing spectacle at once excites 
Such recollection of our own delights, 
That, viewing it, we seem almost t' obtain 
Our innocent, sweet, simple yeara again. Cvmfm 
Come sleep, O sleep, the certain knot of peace 

The baiting-place of wit, the balm of wo; 
The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release, 
Th' indifferent judge between the high and low, 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



2r 



063* PATRICK HENRY'S SPEECH, 1775. 

No man — thinks more highly, than I do, of the 
patriotism, as well as, the abilities, of the very 
worthy gentlemen, who have just addressed the 
.House. But, different men — often see the same 
iubjeci in different lights; and therefore, I hope it 
will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen, 
if, entertaining, as I do, opinions. of a character 
very opposite to theirs, I should speak forth my 
•entiments— -freely, and without reserve. This, sir, 
is no time for ceremony. The question before the 
house is one of awful moment to this country. For 
nty part, I consider it as nothing less than a ques- 
tion of freedom, or slavery : and in proportion to the 
magnitude of the subject, ought to be the freedom 
of debate. It is only in this way we can hope to 
arrive at truth, and fulfill the great responsibility 
which we hold to God, and to our country. Were 
I to withhold my sentiments, at such a time as 
this, through fear of giving offence, I should consi- 
der myself as guilty of treason toward my country, 
and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of 
Heaven; whom I revere above all earthly kings. 
It is natural for man — to indulge in the illusions 
of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a 
painful truth ; and listen — to the song of that syren, 
tili she transforms us — into beasts. Is this — the part 
of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous strug- 
gle for liberty ? Are we disposed to be of the 
number of those, who, having eyes, see not, and 
having ears, hear not, the things, which so nearly 
concern their temporal salvation? For my part, 
whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing 
to know the whole truth ; to know the worst, and to 
provide for it 

I have but one lamp, by which my feet are 
guided; and that — is the lamp — of experience. I 
know of no way of judging of the future, but by 
the past. And, judging by the past, I wish to 
know what there has been, in the conduct of the 
British ministry, for the last ten years, to justify 
those hopes, with which gentlemen have been 
pleased to solace themselves, and the house? Is it 
that insidious smile, with which our petition has 
teen lately received ? Trust it not, sir ; it will prove 
e. snare — to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be 
betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves — how this 
gracious reception of our petition — comports with 
those warlike preparations, which cover our wa- 
itrs, and darken our land. Are fleets, and armies, 
necessary to a work of love, and reconciliation ? 
Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be re- 
conciled, that force must be called in to win back 
our love ? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These 
are the implements of war, and subjugation — the 
last arguments — to which kings resort. I ask, 
gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if 
its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can 
gentlemen assign any other, possible motive for it? 
Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of 
the world, to call for all this accumulation of na- 
vies, and armies? No sir, she has none. They 
are meant for us : they can be meant for no other. 
They are sent over — to bind, and rivet upon us, 
those chains, which the British ministry have been 
so long forging. And what have we to oppose to 
them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have 
been trying that for the last ten years. Have we 
anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. 
We have held the subject up in every light of which 
it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall 
we resort to entreaty, and humble supplication? 
What terms shall we find, which have not been 
already exhausted ? Let us not, I beseech you, 
sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done 
everything that could be done, to avert the storm, 
which is now coming on. We have petitioned; 
we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we 
have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and 
have implored its interposition — to arrest the ty- 
rannical hands of the ministry, and parliament. 
Our petitions — have been slighted; our remon- 
ntiances -have produced additional violence and 



insult ; our supplications have been disregarded 
and we have been spurned, with contempt, from 
the foot of the throne. In vain, after these things, 
may we indulge the fond hope of peace, and recon- 
ciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. 
If we wish to be fee; if we mean to preserve, in- 
violate, those inestimable privileges, for which we 
have been so long contending ; if wc mean not 
basely to abandon the noble struggle, in which 
we have, been so long engaged, and which wo 
have pledged ourselves, never to abandon, until tlus 
glorious object of our contest shall be obtained — 
we must fight! I repeat it ! — sir, we must fight! 
An appeal to arms, and to the God of hosts, is all 
that is left us. They tell us, sir, that we are weak , 
unable to cope — with so formidable an adversary 
But when— shall we be stronger? Will it be the 
next week, or the next year? Will it be— when 
we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard 
shall be stationed in every house? Shall we ga- 
ther strength — by irresolution, and inaction? Shall 
we acquire the means of effectual resistance, by 
lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the de- 
lusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have 
bound us — hand — and foot ? Sir, we are not weak, 
if we make a proper use of those means, which 
the God of nature hath placed in our power. 
Three millions — of people, armed — in the holy cause 
of liberty, and in such a country as that which 
we possess, are invincible, by any force, which 
our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we 
shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just 
God, — who presides over the destinies of nations, 
and who will raise up friends to fight our battles 
for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong— alone ; 
it is to the vigilant, the active, the 3Rave. Besides, 
sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to 
desire it, it is now too late — to retire from the contest. 
There is no retreat, but in submission and slavery. 1 
Our chains are forged. Their clanking — may be 
heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevit- 
able — and let it come ! — I repeat it, sir, let it come ! 
It is vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentle- 
men may cry— peace— peace— but there is no 
peace. The war is actually begun! The next 
gale, that sweeps from the north, will bring to our 
ears the clash of resoanding arms! Our brethren 
are already in the field ! Why stand we here idle! 
What is it, that gentlemen wish? what would they 
have? Is life — so — dear, or peace — so sweet, as to 
he purchased — at the price of chains — and slavery* 
Forbid it, — Almighty God. — I know not — what 
course others may take, — but, as for me, give me 
LIBERTY,— or give me— death !" 

GG4r. AMERICA. 

Still one great clime, in full and free defiance, 
Yet rears her crest, unconquer'd and sublime, 
Above the fair Atlantic ! she has taught 
Her Esau brethren that the haughty flag, 
The floating fence of Albion's feebler crag, [bought 
May strike to those whose red right hands have 
Rights cheaply earn'd with blood. Still, still, forever 
Better, though each man's life-blood were a river, 
That it should flow, and overflow, than creep 
Through thousand lazy channels in our veins, 
Damm'd like the dull canal, with locks and chains, 
And moving, as a sick man in his sleep, 
Three paces, and then faltering : — better be 
Where the extinguished Spartans still are free, 
In their proud charnel of Thermopylae, 
Than stagnate in our marsh, — or o'er the deep 
Fly, and one current to the ocean add, 
One spirit to the souls our fathers had, 
One freeman more, America, to thee ! — Byron. 

Of the Dread of Reform. The true and oaly 
reason, for not attempting a reform of the state of 
tilings is, that the interest of corruption — require* 
them to remain as they are. 
2A 



«78 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



665. yooTSisrs of awgels. 
When the hours of Day are numbered, 

And the yoices of the Night 
Wake the better soul that slumbered 

To a holy, calm delight— 
Ure the evening lamps are lighted, 

And, like phantoms grim and tall, 
Shadows from the fitful fire-lighl 

Dance upon the parlor-wall— 
Then the forms of the departed 

Enter at the open door ; 
The beloved-one, the true-hearted, 

Come to visit me once more ! 
He, the young and strong, who cherished 

Noble longings for the strife — 
By the road-side fell and perished, 

Weary with the march of life! 
They, the holy ones and weakly, 

Who the cross of suffering bore — 
Folded their pale hands so meekly — 

Spake with us on eartn no more ! 
And with them the being beauteous 

Who unto my youth was given, 
More than' all things else to love me, 

And is now a saint in heaven. 
With a slow and noisless footstep 

Comes that messenger divine, 
Takes the vacant chair beside me, 

Lays her gentle hand in mine ; 
And she sits and gazes at me, 

With those deep and tender eyes, 
Like the stars, so still and saint-like, 

Looking downward from the skies. 
Uttered not, yet comprehended, 

Is the spirit's voiceless prayer — 
Soft rebukes, in blessings ended, 

Breathing from her lips of air. 
Oh ! though oft depressed and lonely, 

All my fears are laid aside, 
If I but remember only 

Such as these have lived and died ! 

666. The Wat to be Happt. All man- 
kind are brethren. Every human being, who 
comes in our way, and stands in need of our 
aid, is entitled to our sympathy. Human na- 
ture, and distress, form a legitimate claim to 
our friendly assistance. We are not to with- 
hold our brotherly affection, from any of our 
fellow men, because an imaginary line, a riv- 
er, a ridge of mountains, or a channel of the 
ocean, may have separated their birth-place 
from ours ; because their manners, customs, 
and political institutions are not the same 
v.ith our own ; because, b} r reason of differ- 
ence of climate, and manner of life, their 
sKin is tinged with a different color; because 
they offer their tribute of homage — to the 
Creator in a different manner; or, because 
there is some difference, or shade of differ- 
ence, between their religious rites, and opin- 
ions, and ours. 

The sentiment of universal benevolence — 
expands the heart, humanizes the mind, and 
Jbsteis every generous affection ; but jealousy, 
malace, hatred, and other malignant pas- 
sions — pervert the soul, and cramp, and viti- 
wte — the best feelings of our nature. They 
wage war with every manly, and liberal prin- 



ciple. Instead of sweeping the globe, wit» 
the guilty purpose of oppressing the weak, 
robbing the defenceless, exciting tne sound 
of lamentation in the humble hut, and draw- 
ing forth the tears of the widow, and the or- 
phan, let us do what is in our power — to pro- 
mote the happiness of our fellow men. In 
the genuine spirit of brotherly affection, let 
us smoke the pipe of peace — with the untu- 
tored wanderer of the western wilderness — 
or, partake of bread, and salt, with the hardy 
native of the African desert. 

Mankind often complain, that they are un- 
happy ; that they tread in a thorny path, and 
drink of a bitter stream. But whence do 
their sufferings, and sorrows flow 1 Do they 
not, in a great measure, proceed from then 
own selfish, and malignant passions'? Re- 
move the cause, and the effect will disappear. 
Banish malice, envy, hatred ; let genuine 
good-will towards each other prevail, and a 
great portion of human misery — will fade 
away, like darkness — before the rising sun. 
It will dissipate the gloom, which often clouds 
the countenance, and remove the grief, which 
often preys upon the heart. — Fergus 

EDUCATION. 

If thou hast plucked a flower 

Of richest, rarest ray, 
And borne it from its garden bower, 

Thou knowest 't will fade away : 
If thou hast gathered gold, 

Unrusted and refined, 
That glittering hoard of worth untold. 

Thou knowest the thief may find. 
There is a plant that fears 

No adverse season's strife, 
But with an inborn fragrance cheer* 

The wintry eye of life ; 
There is a wealth that foils 

The robber's roving eye, 
The guerdon of the mind that toil* 

For immortality. 
O ye, whose brows are bright, 

Whose bosoms feel no thorn, 
Seek knowledge, by the rosy light 

Of youth's unfolding morn ; 
With ardor uncontrolled, 

Seek wisdom's lore sublime, 
And win the garland, and the gold 

That oannot change with time. — Sigournty 

THE LAND OF REST. 

Oh, when — shall I go to that land 

Where spirits — beatified dwell ? 
Oh, when shall I join their bright band, 

And bid to Xh\s earth— a farewell? 
I am weary of life — and its care, 

I am weary of life and its woe, 
Oh, when to that country so/air, 

To that country unknown, shall I go? 
A soft yellow light fills the air 

Of that land, which I long to behold; [thei 
And the faces and forms — of the saints who 

Are clothed— in its lustre of gold. 
Like angels they look— as they move, 

And like angels they pass the sweet knots; 
For they ars not mortals, but spirits, who rore 

In the light of those beautiful bowers. 
Fn«e to face the truth comes out 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS 



279 



667. Thr Pf.iiff.ct Orator. Imagine to 
yourselves— a Demosthenes, addressing the 
most illustrious assembly in the world, upon 
a point, whereon the fate of the most illustri- 
ous of nations depended. How awful such a 
meeting! how vast the subject! By the 
power of his eloquence, the augustnessof the 
assembly is lost — in the dignity of the orator; 
and the importance of the subject, for a while, 
superseded by the admiration of his talents. 

With what strength of argument, with what 

Sowers of the fancy, with what emotions of 
le heart, does he assault, and subjugate, the 
whole man ; and, at once, captivate his rea- 
son, his imagination, and his passions! To 
effect this, must be the utmost effort of the 
most improved state of human nature. Not 
& faculty that he possesses, but is here exerted 
to its highest pitch. All his internal powers 
are at work ; all his external, testify their en- 
ergies. 

Within, the memory, the fancy, the judg- 
ment, the passions, are all busy; without, 
every muscle, every nerve is exerted; not a 
feature, not a limb,' but speaks. The organs 
of the body, attuned to the exertions of the 
mind, thro' the kindred organs of the hearers, 
instantaneously vibrate those energies — from 
soul to soul. Notwithstanding the diversity* 
of minds, in such a multitude, by the light- 
ning of eloquence, they are melted into one 
mass; the whole assembly, actuated in one 
and the same way, become, as it were, but one 
man, and have but one voice. The universal 
cry is — Let us march against Philip, let us 
fight for our liberties — let us conquer, or die. 

68S. WIFE, CHILDREN, AND FRIENDS. 
When the black-letter'd list to the gods was presented, 

The list of what fate for each mortal intends, 
Ai the long string of ills a kind goddess relented, 

And slipp'd in three blessings, wife, children, and friends. 
In rvin surly Pluto declared he was cheated, 

And justice divine could not compass her ends, 
The scheme of man's penance he swore was defeated, 

For earth becomes heaven with wife, children, and friends. 
If the stock of our bliss is in stranger hands rested, 

The f jnd, ill-secured, oft in bankruptcy ends, 
Bat tr-e heart issues bills, which are never protested, 

When drawn on the firm of— wife, children, and friends. 
The soldier, whose deeds live immortal in story, 

When duty to far distant latitudes sends, 
With transport would barter whole ages of glory, 

For one happy hour with wife, children, and friends. 
Though valor still glows in life's waning embers, 

The death-wounded tar, who his colors defends, 
Drops a tear of regret, as he dying remembers, 

How blest was his home, with wife, children, and friends. 
Though the spice-breathing gale, o'er his caravan hovers, 

Though around him Arabia's whole fragrance descends, 
The merchant still thinks of the woodbine that covers 

The bower where he sat with wife, children, and friends. 
The day-spring of youth, still unclouded with sorrow, 

Alone on itsevf for enjoyment depends, 
But drear is the twilight of age, if it borrow 

No warmth from the smiles of wife, children and friends. 
Let the breath of renown ever freshen and nourish 

The laurel that o'er her fair favorites bends, 
Cer me wave the willow, and long may it flourish, 

Bedew'd with the tears of wife, children, and friends. 

Friendship is constant in all other things, 

Save in the office and affairs of love: 

Therefore, all hearts in love use their own tongues. 

Lei rvery eye negotiate foi i self, 

And trust no agent: for beauty is a witch, 

Agiins* whose charms faith melteth into bloou 



669. 1. ME— NEW TEAB. 

Tis midnight's holy hour; and silence, now 
Is brooding, like a gentle spirit, o'er |.w nds, 

The still — and pulseless world. Hark! on ihe 
The bell's deep tones are swelling: 'tis the knell 
Of the departed — year. No funeral train 
Is sweeping past; yet, on the stream, and wood, 
With melancholy light, the moonbeam's rest, 
Like a pale, spotless shroud : ihe air is stirred, 
As by a mourner's sigh ; and. on yon cloud, 
That floats so still, and placidly, through heaven, 
The spirits — of the seasons — seem to stand, [form. 
Young Spring, bright Summer, Autumn's solema 
And Winter, with his nged locks, and breath, 
In mournful cadence, that come abroad, — 
Like the far wind-harp's wild, and touching wall, 
A melancholy dirge — o'er the dead year — 
Gone — from the earth — forever. 

Tis a time 
For memory, and tears. Within the deep, 
Sull chambers of the heart, a spectre dim, 
Whose tones — are like the wizard's voice of Time, 
Heard from ihe tomb of ages, points its cold — 
And solemn finger — to the be utiful 
And holy visions, that have iassed away, 
And left no shadow of the-i oveliness, 
On the dead waste oflif*- That spectre — lifts 
The coffin-lid of Hope, t. j Joy, and Love, 
And, bending, mournfully, above the pale, [flowers 
Sweet forms, that slumber there, scatters dead 
O'er what has passed — to nothingness. The year 
Has gone, and, with it, many a glorious throng 
Of happy dreams. Its mark — is on each brow, 
Its shadow — in each heart. In its swift course, 
It waved its sceptre o'er the beautiful — 
And they are not. It laid its palid hand 
Upon the strong man — and the haughty form — 
Is fallen, and the flashing eye — is dim. 
It trod the hall of revelry, where thronged 
The bright and joyous — and the tearful wail — 
Of stricken ones — is heard, where erst, the song, 
And reckless shout — resounded. It passed o'er 
The battle-plain,where sword, and spear.and shield 
Flashed — in the light of mid-day — aud the strengtk 
Of serried hosts is shivered, and the grass, 
Green from the soil of carnage, waves above 
The crushed, and mouldering skeleton. It came, 
And faded, like a wreath of mist, at eve; 
Yet, ere it melted in the viewless air, 
It heralded its millions — to their home — 
In the dim land — of dreams. 

Looking into the fire is very injurious to the 
eyes, particularly a coal fire. The stimulus of 
light and heat united, soon destroys the eyes. 
Looking at molten iron will soon destroy the 
sight. Reading in the twilight is injurious to 
the eyes, as they are obliged to make great, ex- 
ertion. Reading or sewing with a side light, 
injures the eyes, as both eyes should be ex- 
posed to an equaldegree of light. The reason 
is, the sympathy between the eyes is so great, 
that if the pupil of one is dilated by being kept 
partially in the shade, the one that is most ex- 
posed cannot contract itself sufficiently for 
protection, and will ultimately be injured. 
Those who wish to preserve their sight, should 
preserve their general health by correct habits, 
and give their eyes just work enough, with a 
due degree of light 



280 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



67 O. America. I appeal to history ! Tell 
me, thou reverend chronicler of the grave, 
can all the illusions of ambition realized, can 
all the wealth of a universal commerce, can 
all the achievements of successful heroism, or 
can all the establishments of this world's wis- 
dom, secure to the empire, the permanency 
of its possessions'.' Alas! Troy thought so 
once , yet the land of Priam lives only in song ! 

Thebes thought so once ; yet her hundred 
gates have crumbled, and her very tombs are 
as the dust they were vainly intended to com- 
memorate ! So thought Palmyra — yet where 
is she ? So thought the country of Demos- 
thenes and the Spartan ; yet Leonidas is 
trampled by the timid slave, and Athens in- 
nulted by the servile, mindless and enervate 
Ottoman i 

In his hurried march, Time has but looked 
at their imagined immortality; and all its 
vanities, from the palace to the tomb, have, 
with their ruins, erased the very impression 
of his footsteps ! The days of their glory are 
as if they never had been ; and the island, 
that was then a speck, rude and neglected in 
the barren ocean, now rivals the ubiquity of 
their commerce, the glory of their arms, the 
fame of their philosophy, the eloquence of 
their senate, and the inspiration of then- 
hard s ! 

Who shall pay, then, contemplating the 
past, that England, proud and potent as she 
appears, may not, one day, be what Athens 
is, and the young America yet soar to be 
what Athens was ! Who shall say, that, 
when the European column shall have mould- 
ered, and the night of barbarism obscured its 
very ruins, that mighty continent may not 
emerge from the horison to rule, for its time, 
Bjvereign of the ascendant ! — Phillips. 

671. THE TOWER OF ELOQUENCE. 

Heard ye — those loud — contending waves, 

That shook — Cecropia's pillared state? 
Saw ye the mighty, from their graves 

Look up, and tremble at her fate ? 
Who— shall calm the angry storm? 
Who, the mighty task perform, 

And bid the raging tumult— cease ? 
See the son of Hermes rise ; 
With syren tongue, and speaking eyes, 

Hush the noise, and soothe to peace ! 

Lo ! from the regions of the north, 

The reddening storm of battle pours; 
Rolls along the trembling earth, 

Fastens — on Oiynttuan towers. 
"Where rests the sword i where sleep the brave, 
Awake ! Cecropia's ally save, 

From the fury of the blast ; 
Burst the storm on Phocis' walls; 
Rise ! or Greece forever falls, 

Up ! or freedom — breathes her last .!" 

The jarring states, obsequious now, 

View the patriot's hand on high; 
Thunder — gathering on his brow; 

Lightning— flashing from his eye ! 
Borne by the tide of words along, 
One voice, one mind, inspire the throng: 

" To arms ! to arms ! to arms !" they cry. 
u Grasp the shield, and draw the sword, 
L2ad us to Philippi's lord, 

Let us conquer him — or die !" 

Ah eloquence ! thou wast undone ; 

Wast from thy native country driven, 
When .yranny— eclipsed the sun, 

And blotted out the stars of heaven 
When liberty, from Greece withdrew 
tnd o'ei the Adriatic flew, 



To where the Tiber pou.'s . is um 
She struck the rude Tarpeiau rock; 
Sparks were kindled by the shock — 

Again, thy fires began to burn! 

Now, shining forth, thou madest complaint, 

The conscript fathers — to thy charm*; 
Roused the world-beslriding giant, 

Sinking fast, in slavery's arnw! 
I see thee stand — by freedom's fane, 
Pouring the persuasive strain, 

Giving vast conceptions birth : 
Hark ! I hear thy thunder's sound, 
Shake the forum — round — und round, 

Shake — the pillars — of the earth ! 

First-born of liberty divine! 

Put on religion's bright array ; 
Speak ! and the starless grave — shall shine, 

The. portal — of eternal day ! 
Rise, kindling with the orient beam ; 
Let Calvary's hill— inspire the theme ! 

Unfold the garments — rolled in blood! 
O touch the soul, touch all her chords, 
With all the omnipotence of words, 

And point the way to heaven— to God —Carey, 

The Influence of Gold. A man wh« 

is furnished with arguments from the mint, 
will convince his antagonist much sooner 
than one who draws them from reason and 
philosophy. Gold is a wonderful clearer of 
the understanding ; it dissipates every doubt 
and scruple in an instant; accommodates it- 
self to the meanest capacities , silences the 
loud and clamorous, and brings over the most 
obstinate and inflexible. Philip of Macedon 
was a man of most invincible reason this 
way. He refuted by it all the wisdom of 
Athens, confounded their statesmen, struck 
their orators dumb, and at length, argued 
them out of all their liberties. — Addison. 

THE WORLD TO COME. 

If all our hopes, and all our fears. 

Were prisoned — in life's narrow bound} 
If travelers — through this vale of tears, 

We saw no better world beyond ; 
Oh ! what could check the rising sigh ? 

What earthly thing — could pleasure give ? 
Oh ! who would venture then, to die — 

Or who would venture then — to live ? 
Were life a dark, and desert rnoor, 

Where mists — and clouds eternal — spread 
Their gloomy vail behind, before, 

And tempests thunder — overhead ; 
Where not a sun-beam — breaks tLe gloom, 

And not a floweret — smiles beneath, 
Who would exist — in such a tomb — 

Who dwell in darkness — and in death ? 
And such were life, without the ray 

Of our divine religion given ; 
Tis this, that makes bur darkness, day, 

Tis this, that makes our earth— a heaven \ 
Bright is the golden sun above, 

And beautiful — the flowers, that bloom, 
And all is joy, and all is love, 

Reflected — from the world to come ! 
Life is a weary interlude — 
Which doth short joys, long woes include 
The world the fttage, the prologue tears ; 
The acts vain hopes and varied feirs; 
The scene shuts up with loss of breath, 
And leaves no epilogue but death !— II. King 
The stomach, hath no cars. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



281 



G78. Military Despotism aitd Is sub- 
ordination. Mr. Chairman, — I trust, that 
I shall be indulged, with some few reflections, 
upon the danger — of permitting the conduct, 
oil which it has been my painful duty to ani- 
madvert, to pass, without a solemn expression 
of the disapprobation of this house. Recall to 
your recollection, sir, the free nations, which 
nave gone before us. Where are they now 1 

"Gone, glimmering through the dream of things that were; 
A schoolboy's tale, — the wonder of an hour." 

And how have they lost their liberties 1 If 
We could transport ourselves back, sir, to the 
«ges when Greece, and Rome, flourished, in 
their greatest prosperity, and, mingling in the 
throng, should ask a Grecian, if he did not 
fear, that some daring military chieftain, cov- 
ered with glory, some Philip, or Alexander, 
would one day overthrow the liberties of his 
country, — the confident, and indignant Gre- 
cian would exclaim, No ! no ! we have nothing 
to fear from our heroes J our liberties will be 
eternal. If a Roman citizen had been asked, 
if he did not fear, that the conqueror of Gaul 
might establish a throne upon the ruins of 

Eublic liberty, he would have instantly repel- 
sd the unjust insinuation. Yet, Greece — 3ias 
fallen ; Cesar — has passed the rubicon ; and 
the patriotic arm even of Brutus — could not 
preserve the liberties of his devoted country. 
Sir, we are fighting a great moral battle for 
the benefit, not only of our country, but of all 
mankind. The eyes of the whole world are 
in fixed attention upon us. One, and the 
largest portion of it, is gazing with jealousy, 
and with envy ; the other portion, with hope, 
with confidence, and with affection. Every 
where — the black cloud of legitimacy is sus- 
pended over the world, save only one bright 
spot, which breaks out from the political hem- 
isphere of the west, to enlighten, and animate, 
and gladden the human heart Obscure that, 
by the downfall of liberty here, and all man- 
kind — are enshrouded — m a pall of universal 
iarkness. Beware, then, sir, how you give a 
*atal sanction, in this infant period of our re- 
public, to military insubordination. Remem- 
ber, that Greece — had her Alexander, Rome 
her Cesar, England — her Cromwell, France 
her Bonaparte, and, that if we would escape 
the rock, on wliich they split, we must avoid 
their errors. 

I hope, sir, that gentlemen will deliberately 
survey — the awful isthmus, on which we 
stand. They may bear down all opposition. 
They may even vote general Jackson the pub- 
lic thanks. They may carry him triumphant- 
ly through this house. But, if they do, sir, in 
my humble judgment, it will be a triumph of 
the principle of insubordination — a triumph 
of the military — over the civil authority — a 
triumph over the powers of this house — a tri- 
umph over the constitution of the land ; and 
I pray, sir, most devoutly, that it may not 
prove, in its ultimate effects and consequen- 
ces, a triumph over the liberties of the people. 

THE EARTH HAS BEEN ALL ALIVE. 

What is the world itself? thy world?— a grave ! 
Where is the dust that has not been alive ? 
The spade, the plow, disturb our ancestors, 
Prom human moid we reap our daily bread; 
The globe around earth's hollow surface shakes, 
And is the ceiling of her sleeping sons : 
O'er devastation we blind revels keep ; 
Whole buried towns support the darter's heel. 
36 2a2 



673. THE FBEXCHMAN AN3 KJS H031'. 

A Frenchman once, who was a merry wight, 
Passing to town from Dover in the night, 
Near the roadside an ale-house chanced to sp7: 
And being rather tired as well as dry, 
Resolved to enter ; but first he took a peep, 
In hopes a supper he might get, and cheap. 
He enters: "Hallo! Garoon, if you please, 
Bring me a little bit of bread and cheese. 
And hallo ! Garcon, a pot of porter too !" he said, 
" Vich I shall take, and den myself to bed." [left, 

His supper done, some scraps of cheese were 
Which our poor Frenchman, thinking it no tLsft, 
Into his pocket put ; then slowly crept 
To wished-for bed ; but not a wink he slept — 
For, on the floor, some sacks of flour were laid, 
To which the rats a nightly visit paid. 

Our hero now undressed, popped out the light, 
Put on his cap and bade the world good-night; 
But first his breeches, which contained the fare, 
Under his pillow he had placed with care. 

Sans ceremonie, soon the rats all ran, 
And on the flour-sacks greedily began ; [round, 
At which they gorged themselves ; then smelling 
Under the pillow soon the cheese they found ; 
And while at this they regaling sat, 
Their happy jaws disturbed the Frenchman's nap; 
Who, half awake, cries out, " Hallo ! hallo ! 
Vat is dat nibbel at my pillow so? 
Ah! 'tis one big huge rat ! 
Vat de diable is it he nibbel, nibbel at ?" 

In vain our li ttle hero sought repose ; 
Sometimes the vermin galloped o'er his nose; 
And such the pranks they kept up a'J the night, 
That he, on end antipodes upright, 
Bawling aloud, called stoutly for a l!ght- 
"Hallo! Maison! Garcon, I say! 
Bring me the bill for vat I have to pay !" 
The bill was brought, and to his great surprise, 
Ten shillings was the charge, he scarce believea 
With eager haste, he runs it o'er, [his eye* 

And every time he viewed it thought it more. 
" Vy zounds, and zounds!" he cries, "I sail no pay; 
Vat charge ten shelangs for vat I have mange ? 
A leetal sup of porter, dis vile bed, 
Vare all de rats do run about my head?" 
" Plague on those rats !" the landlord muttered out ; 
" I wish, upon my word, that I could make 'em 

scout : 
I'll pay him well that can." " Vat's dat you say?" 
"I'll pay him well that can." "Attend to me, I 
Vil you dis charge forego, vat I am at, [pray j 
If from your house I drive away de rat?" 
" With all my heart," the jolly host replies, 
" Ecoutez done, ami ;" the Frenchman cries. 
" First, den — Regardez, if you please, 
Bring to dis spot a lestle bread and cheese : 
Eh bien ! a pot of portar too ; 
And den invite de rats to sup vid you: 
And after — no matter dey be vil ling — 
For vat ( ey eat. you charge dem just ten sJ>ei*n^: 
And I am sure, ven dey behold de score, 
Dey'U quit your house, and never come no too** • 
How beautiful — is the swiftly passing light — 
On the calm cloud of ere ! 'Tis sweet— to mark 
Those color'd fold»— float »ound the setting sun, 
Like c ; mson drapery— «»'er a monarch's thsnue. 



182 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



674, Loss or National Character. 

The bssof a firm, national character, or the 
degradation of a nation's honor, is the inevi- 
table prelude to her destruction. Behold the 
once proud fabric of the Roman empire; an 
empire, carrying its arts, and arms, into every 
part of the eastern continent; the monarchs 
of misrhty kingdoms, dragged at the wheels 
of hertriumphal chariots; her eagle, waving 
over the ruins of desolated countries. Where 
is her splendor, her wealth, her power, her 
glory 1 Extinguished — forever. Her mold- 
ering temples, the mournful vestiges of her 
former giandeur, afford a shelter to her mut- 
tering monks. Where are her statesmen, her 
sages", her philosophers, her orators, her gene- 
rals 1 Go to their solitary tombs, and inquire. 
She lost her national character, and her de- 
struction followed. The ramparts of her na- 
tional pride were broken down, and Vandal- 
ism desolated her classic fields. 

Citizens will lose their respect and confi- 
dence, in our government, if it does not ex- 
tend over them, the shield of an honorable, 
national character. Corruption will creep in, 
and sharpen party animosity. Ambitious 
leaders will seize upon the favorable moment. 
The mad enthusiasm for revolution — will 
call into action the irritated spirit of our na- 
tion, and civil war must follow. The swords 
of our countrymen may yet glitter on our 
mountains, their blood may yet crimson our 
plains. 

Such, the warning voice of all antiquity, the 
example of all republics proclaim — may be 
our fate. But let us no longer indulge these 
gloomy anticipations. The commencement 
of our liberty presages the dawn of a brighter 
period to the world. That bold, enterprising 
spirit, which conducted our heroes to peace, 
and safety, and gave us a lofty rank, amid 
the empires of the world, still animates the 
bosoms of their descendants. Look back to 
the moment, when they unbarred the dun- 
geons of the slave, and dashed his fetters 
to the earth, when the sword of a Washing- 
ton leaped from its scabbard, to revenge the 
slaughter of our countrymen. Place their 
example before you. Let the sparks of 
their veteran wisdom flash across your 
minds, and the sacred altars of your liber- 
ty, crowned with immortal honors, rise be- 
fore you. Relying- on the virtue, the cour- 
age, the patriotism, and the strength of our 
country, we may expect our national charac- 
ter will become more energetic, our citizens 
more enlightened, and may hail the age as 
not far distant, when will be heard, as the 
proudest exclamation of man: I am an 
American. — Maxcy. 

The bell strikes one : We take no note of time, 
But from its loss. To give it then a tongue, 
Jb r-'ise in man. As if an angel spoke, 
I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, 
It is the knell of my departed hours : [flood ? 

Where are they? with the years beyond the 
It its the signal that demands despatch ; 
How much is to be done '. my hopes and fears 
Start upalarm'd, and o'er life's narrow verge 
Look down— on what 1 a fathomless abyss; 
A dread eternity ! how surely mine 1 
And ian eternity belong to me, 
J oor pensioner on the bounties of an hour? 
ReaMr. gains all men, by compelling none 



675. GOOD-NIDHT. 

Good-night— to all the ivcrld I ther« • *• us, 
Beneath thi "over-going" swn, 
To whom, I feel, or hate, or s;»'te, 
And so to nil— a fair good nigh* 
Would I could say, good-irght to pain. 
Good-night to evil and her train, 
To cheerless poverty, and shame, 
That I am yet unknown to fame ! 
Would I could say, good-night to dreams, 
That haunt me with delusive gleams, 
That through the sable future's vail, 
Like meteors, glimmer, but to fail. 
Would I could say,>a long good-nighc, 
To halting, between wrong, and right, 
And, like a giant, with new force, 
Awake, prepared to run my course! 
But time o'er good and ill sweeps on, 
And when few years have come, and gone, 
The past — will be to me as naught, 
Whether remembered, or forgot. 
Yet, let me hope, one faithful friend, 
O'er my last couch, in tears shall bend ; 
And, though no day for me was bright, 
Shall bid me then, a long good-night. 

Respect to Old Are. It happened at 
Athens, during a public representation ot 
some play, exhibited in honor of the common- 
wealth, that an old gentleman came too late, 
for a place suitable to his age, and quality. 
Many of the young gentlemen, who observed 
the difficulty and confusion he was in, made 
signs to him, that they would accommodate 
him, if he came where they sat. The good 
man bustled through the crowd accordingly; 
but when he came to the seat, to which he 
was invited, the jest was, to sit close, and ex- 
pose him, as he stood out of countenance, to 
the whole audience. The frolic went round 
all the Athenian benches. But, on those oc- 
casions, there were also particular places re- 
served for foreigners. When the good man 
skulked towards the boxes, appointed for the 
Lacedemonians, that honest people, more vir- 
tuous than polite, rose up all to a man, and 
with the greatest respect, received him among 
them. The Athenians, being suddenly touch 
ed with a sense of the Spartan virtue, and 
their own degeneracy, gave a thunder of ap- 
plause ; and the old man cried out, " the Athe- 
nians understand what is good, but the Lace- 
demonians practice it. 

fortune-teller. 
A hungry, lean-fae'd villain, 
A mere anatomy, a mountebank, 
A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune teller » 
A needy, hollow-eye'd, sharp looking wretch, 
A living dead man : this pernicious slave, 
Forsooth, took on him as a conjurer; 
And gazing in my eyes, feeling my puTse, 
And with no face, as 'twere outfacing me, 
Cries out, I was possess'd.— Skakspeare. 
recreation. 
Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue, 
But moody and dull melancholy, 
(Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair;) 
And at her heels, a huge infectious troop 
Of pale distemperatures; and foes to life ? 



HEADINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



283 



676. the groves: god's first temples. 
The groves— were God's first temples. Ere man 
To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, [learned 
And spread the roof above them, — ere he framed 
The lofty vault, to gather, and roll back, 
The sound of anthems, — in the darkling wood, 
Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down, 
And offered, to the Mightiest, solemn thanks, 
And supplication. For his simple heart 
Might not resist the sacred influences, 
That, from the stilly twilight of the place, 
And from the gray old trunks, that, high in heav'n, 
Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound 
Of the invisible breath, that swayed, at once, 
All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed 
His spirit— with the thought of boundless Power, 
And inaccessible Majesty. Ah! why 
Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect 
God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore, 
Only, among the crowd, and under roofs, 
That our frail hands have raised ? Let me, at least, 
Here, in the shadow of this aged wood, 
Offer one hymn; thrice happy, if it find* 
Acceptance in his ear. 

Father, thy hand 
Hath reared these venerable columns; thou 
Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down 
Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose 
All these fair ranks of trees. They, in thy sun, 
Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze, 
And shot towards heav'n. The century-living crow, 
Whose birth was in their tops, grew old, and died, 
Among their branches; till, at last, they stood, 
As noiv they stand, massy, and tall, and dark — 
Fit shrine — for humble worshiper to hold 
Communion with his Maker. Here are seen, 
No traces of man's pomp, or pride ; no silks 
Rustle, no jewels shine, nor envious eyes 
Encounter; no fantastic carvings — show 
The boast of our vain race — to change the form 
Of thy fair works. But thou art here ; thou filFst 
The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds, 
That run along the summits of these trees, 
In music ; thou art in the cooler breath, 
That, from the inmost darkness of the place, 
Comes, scarcely felt ; the barky trunks, the ground, 
The fresh, moist ground, are all instinct with thee. 

Here, is continual worship ; nature, here, 
In the tranquillity that thou dost love, 
Enjoys thy presence. Noiselessly, around, 
From perch to perch, the solitary bird 
Passes : and yon clear spring, that, midst its herbs. 
Wells softly forth, and visits the strong roots 
Of half the mighty forest, tells no tale 
Of all the good it does. Thou hast not left 
Thyself without a witness, in these shades, 
Of thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace, 
Are here to speak of thee. This mighty oak— 
By whose immovable stem I stand, and seem 
Almost annihilated— not a prince, 
In all the proud old world, beyond the deep, 
E'er wore his crown— as loftily as he 
Wears the green coronal of leaves, with which 
Thy hand has graced him. Nestled at his root 
I« beauty, such as blooms not in the glare 
Of the oroad sun. That delicate forest-flower, 
With feemed breath, and look, so like a smile, 



Seems, as it issues from the shapeless hduU, 
An emanation of the indwelling Life, 
A visible token — of the upholding Love, 
That are, the soul of this wide universe 

My heart.— is awed within me, when I think 
Of the great miracle that Hill goes en, 
In silence, round me — the perpetual work 
Of thy creation, finished, yet renewed— 
Forever. Written on thy works, I read 
The lesson of thy own eternity. 
Lo ! all grow old, and die : but see, again, 
How, on the faltering footsteps of decay, 
Youth presses — ever gay, and beautiful youth— 
In all its beautiful forms. These lofty trees 
Wave not less proudly, that their ancestors 
Moulder, beneath them. Oh ! there is ...a lost 
One of earth's charms : upon her boson yet, 
After the flight of untold centuries, 
The freshness of her far beginning lies, 
And yet shall lie. Life — mocks the idle hate 
Of his arch enemy — Death; yea, seats himself 
Upon the sepulchre, and blooms, and smiles, 
And of the triumphs of his ghastly foe, 
Makes his own nourishment. For he came foi^ 
From thine own bosom, and shall have no end. 

There have heen holy men, who hid themselves 
Deep in the woody wilderness, and gave 
Their lives to thought, and prayer, till they outlived 
The generation, born with them, nor seemed 
Less aged, than the hoary trees, and rocks, 
Around them ; and there have been holy meu, 
Who deemed it were not well — to pass life thus. 
But let me, often, to these solitudes 
Retire, and, in thy presence, reassure 
My feeble virtue. Here, its enemies, 
The passions, at thy plainer footsteps, shrink, 
And tremble, and are still. 

O God ! when thou 
Dost scare the world with tempests, set on fire 
The heavens, with falling thunderbolts, or fill, 
With all the waters of the firmament, 
The swift, dark whirlwind, that uproots the woods, 
And drowns the villages; when, at thy call, 
Uprises the great deep, and throws himself 
Upon the continent, anc overwhelms 
Its cities ; — who forgets not, at the sight 
Of these tremendous tokens of thy power, 
His pride, and lays his strifes, and follies by! 
Oh ! from the sterner aspects of thy face 
Spare me, and mine ; nor let us need the wrath 
Of the mad, unchained elements, to tearh 
Who rules them. Be it ours to meditate, 
In these calm shades, thy milder majesty, 
And to the beautiful order of thy works, 
Learn to conform the order of our lives. — Bryant. 
Naturally, men are prone to spin them- 
selves a web of opinions out of their owi. 
brain, and to have a religion that may !)p cal- 
led their own. Men are far readier to make 
themselves a faith, than to receive that which 
God hath formed to their hands, and they are 
far readier to receive a doctrine that tends to 
their carnal commodity, or honor, or delights, 
than one that tends to self-denial. 

Like dogs in a wheel, birds in a cage, i>r squir* 
rels in a chain, ambitious men still climb and 
climb, with great labor, and incessant anxiety 
but never reach the top. 



884 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



•77. Phtsical Education. That is, un- 
doubtedly, the wisest, and best regimen, 
which takes the infant from the cradle, ana 
conducts him along, through childhood, and 
youth, up to high maturity, m such a manner, 
as to give strength to his arm, swiftness to his 
feet, solidity and amplitude to his muscles, 
symmetry to his frame, and expansion to his 
vital energies. It is obvious, that this branch 
of education comprehends, not only food and 
clothing, but air, exercise, lodging, early ri- 
sing, and whatever else is requisite, to the full 
development of the physical constitution. 
The diet must be simple, the apparel must 
not be too warm, nor the bed too soft. 

Let parents beware of too much restriction 
m the management of their darling boy. Let 
him, in choosing his play, follow the sugges- 
tions of nature. Let them not be discompos- 
ed at the sight of his sand-hills in the road, 
his snow-forts in February, and his mud-dams 
in April ; nor when they chance to look out 
in the midst of an August shower, and see 
him wading and sailing, and sporting along 
with the water-fowl. If they would make 
him hardy and fearless, they must let him go 
abroad as often as he pleases, in his early 
boyhood, and amuse himself by the hour to- 
gether, in smoothing and twirling the hoary 
locks of winter. Instead of keeping him 
shut up all day with a stove, and graduating 
his sleeping-room by Fahrenheit, they must 
let him face the keen edge of a north-wind, 
when the mercury is below cipher ; and, in- 
stead of minding a little shivering, and com- 
plaining, when he returns, cheer up his spir- 
its, and send him out again. In this way, 
they will teach him, that he was not born to 
live in the nursery, nor to brood over the fire ; 
but to range abroad, as free as the snow, and 
the air, and to gain warmth from exercise. 

I love, and admire the youth, who turns 
not back from the howling wintry blast, nor 
withers under the blaze of summer; who 
never magnifies " mole-hills into mountains ;" 
but whose daring eye, exulting, scales the ea- 
gle's airy crag, and who is ready to under- 
take anything, that is prudent, and lawful, 
within the range of possibility. Who would 
think of planting the mountain-oak — in a 
green-house 1 ? or of rearing the cedar of Leb- 
anon — in a lady's flower-pot 1 Who does 
not know that, in order to attain their mighty 
strength, and majestic forms, they must free- 
ly enjoy the rain, and the sunshine, and must 
reel the rocking of the tempest 1 

THE CHASE. 

The stag, at eve, had drunk his fill, 
Where danced the moon, on Monan's rill, 
And deep — his midnight lair had made, 
In lone Glenartney's hazel shade ; 
But, when the sun — his beacon red 
Had kindled, on Benvoirlich's head, 
The deep-mouthed bloodhound's heavy bay 
Resounded up the rocky way, 
And faint from farther distance borne, 
Were heard the clanging hoof, and horn. 
As chief, who hears his warder call, 
"To arms ! the foeman storm the wall," 
The antlered monarch of the waste- 
Sprung from his heathery couch, in haste. 
But, ere his fleet career he took, 
The dew-drops, from his flanks, he shook : 
iLike crested leader, proud, and high, 



Tossed his beamed frontlet— to the sky; 

A moment — gazed— adown the dale, 

A moment — snuffed the tainted gale, 

A moment, listened to the cry, 

That thickened— as the chase drew nigh , 

Then, as the headmost foes appeared, 

With one brave bound— the copse he cleared 

And, stretching forward, free, and far, 

Sought the wild heaths— of Uam-Var.— Scoa, 

678. MODULATION. 

Tis not enough — the voice be sound, and clesj, 
'Tis modulation., that must charm the ear. 
When desperate heroes grieve, with tedious moan, 
And whine their sorrows, in a see-saw tone, 
The same soft sounds — of unimpassioned woes, 
Can only make the yawning hearers — doze. 
The voice — all modes of passion can express, 
That marks the proper word, with proper stress : 
But none emphatic — can that speaker call, 
Who lays an equal emphasis — on all. 
Some, o'er the tongue — the labored measures roll, 
Slow, and deliberate — as the parting toll; 
Point every stop, mark every pause so strong, 
Their words, like stage processions, stalk along. 
All affectation — but creates disgust ; 
And e'en in speaking, we may seem too just. 
In vain, for them, the pleasing measure flows, 
Whose recitation — runs it all to prose; 
Repeating — what the poet sets not down, 
The verse disjointing — from its favorite noun, 
While pause, and break, and repetition join. 
To make a discord — in each tuneful line. 
Some placid natures — fill the allotted scene 
With lifeless drawls, insipid and serene ; 
While others— thunder every couplet o'er, 
And almost crack your ears— with rant, and roa . 
More nature, oft, and finer strokes are shown, 
In the low whisper, than tempestuous tone ; 
And Hamlet's hollow voice, and fixed amaze, 
More powerful terror — to the mind conveys, 
Than he, who, swollen with impetuous rage, 
Bullies the bulky phantom of the stage. 
He, who, in earnest, studies o'er his part. 
Will find true nature — cling; about his heart. 
The modes of grief— are not included all — 
In the white handkerchief, and mournful drawl; 
A single look — more marks the internal w-e, 
Than all the windings of the lengthened -Oh! 
Up to the face — the quick sensation flies, 
And darts its meaning — from the speaking eyes: 
Love, transport, madness, anger, scorn, despair, 
And all the passions, all the soul is there. 

nature's wants are few. 
Man's rich with little, were his judgment trc ; , 
Nature is frugal, and her wants are few; 
Those few wants answered, bring sincere delights^ 
But fools create themselves new appetites. 
Fancy and pride seek things at vast expense, 
Which relish nor to reason nor to sense. 
When surfeit or unthankful ness destroys, 
In nature's narrow sphere, our solid joys, 
In fancy's airy land of noise and show, 
Where nought but dreams, no real pleasures grow 
Like cats in air-pumps, to subsist we 6trive, 
On joys too thin to keep the soul alive.— Young. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



389 



6T9. A Cuiifc fou Hard Times. We 
we too fond of showing out in our families ; 
and, in this way, our expenses far exceed our 
incomes. Our daughters — must be dressed 
off in their silks and crapes, instead of their 
iinsey-woolsey. Our young folks — are too 
proud to be seen in a coarse dress, and their 
extravagance is bringing ruin on our families. 
When you can induce your sons to prefer 
young women, for their real worth, rather 
than for their show ; when you can get them 
to choose a wife, who can make a good loaf 
of bread, and a good pound of butter, in pref- 
erence to a girl, who does nothing but dance 
about in her silks, and her laces ; then, gen- 
tlemen, you may expect to see a change for 
the better. We must get back to the good old 
simplicity of former times, if we expect to see 
more prosperous days. The time was, even 
since memory, when a simple note was good 
for any amount of money, but now bonds and 
mortgages are thought almost no security; 
and this owing to the want of confidence. 

And what has caused this want of confi- 
dence 1 Why, it is occasioned by the extrav- 
agant manner of living ; by your families go- 
ing in debt beyond your ability to pay. Ex- 
amine this matter, gentlemen, and you will 
find this to be the real cause. Teach your 
sons to be too proud to ride a hackney, which 
their father cannot pay for. Let them be 
above being seen sporting in a gig, or a car- 
riage, which their father is in debt for. Let 
them have this sort ©f independent pride, and 
I venture to say, that you will soon perceive 
a reformation. But, until the change com- 
mences in this way in our families; until we 
begin the work ourselves, it is in vain to ex- 
pect better times. 

Now, gentlemen, if you think as I do on 
this subject, there is a way of showing that 
you do think so, and but one way ; when you 
return to your homes, have independence 
enough to put these principles in practice ; 
and 1 am sure you will not he disappointed. 

680. THE FIRE-SIDE. 

Dear Chloe, while the busy crowd, 
The vain, the wealthy, and the proud, 

In folly's maze advance ; 
Tho' singularity, and pride, 
Be call'd our choice, we'll step aside, 

Nor join the giddy dance. 
From the gay world, w'ell oft retire, 
To our own fcmily and fire, 

Where love — our hours employs ; 
No noisy neighbor — enters here, 
No intermeddling stranger — near- 

To spoil our heart-felt joys. 
If solid happiness — we prize, 
Within our breast— this jewel lies; 

And they are fools, who roam : 
The world — has nothing to bestow ; 
From our own selves — our joys must flow, 

And that dear hut, our home. 
Of rest, was Noah's dove bereft, 
When, with impatient wing she left 

That safe retreat, the ark ; 
Giving her vain excursion o'er, 
The disappointed bird, once more 

Explor'd the sacred bark. 
Tho' fools— spurn Flymen's gentle pow'rs, 
We. who improve his golden hours, 



By sweet experience know, 
That marriage, rightly understood, 
Gives to the tender, and the good, 

A paradise below. 
Our babes, shall richest comfort bring; 
If tutor'd right, they'll prove a spring 

Whence pleasures ever rise : 
We'll form their minds, with studious *»!•, 
To all that's manly, good, and fair, 

And train them for the skies. 
While they our wisest hours engage, 
They'll joy our youth, support our agt, 

And crown our hoary hairs : 
They'll grow in virtue ev'ry day, 
And thus, our fondest loves repay, 

And recompense aur cares. 
No borrowed jcys ! they're all our own, 
While, to the world, we live unknown, 

Or; by the world forgot ; 
Monarchs ! we envy not your state ; 
We look with pity — on the great, 

And bless our humbler lot. 
Our portion is not large, indeed ! 
But then, how little do we need ! 

For nature's calls are few : 
In this, the art of living lies, 
To want no more, lhat may suffice, 

And make that little do. 
We'll therefore relish, with content. 
Whate'er kind Providence has sent, 

Nor aim beyond our pow'r ; 
For if our stock be very small, 
Tis prudence to enjoy it all, 

Nor lose the present hour. 
To be resign'd, when ills betide, 
Patient, when favors are denied, 

And pleas'd, with favors giv'n : 
Dear Chloe, this is wisdom's part; 
This is that incense of the heart, 

Whose fragrance — smells to heav'n. 
We'll ask no long protracted treat, 
Since winter-life is seldom sweet ; 

But, when our feast is o'er, 
Grateful from table we'll arise, 
Nor grudge our sons, with envious eye* 

The relics of our store. 
Thus, hand in hand, thro 1 life we'll go; 
Its checker'd paths of joy and wo, 

With cautious steps, we'll tread ; 
Quit its vain scenes, without a tea , 
Without a trouble, or a fear, 

And mingle with the dead. 
While conscience, like a faithful friend, 
Shall, thro' the gloomy vale attend, 

And cheer our dying breath ; 
Shall, when all other comforts cease, 
Like a kind angel, whisper — peace, 

And smooth the bed of death.— Cotton. 

Ye glittering towns, with wealth and spifend* 

crown'd ; 
Ye fields, where summer spreads profusion roun4 
Ye lakes, whose vessels catch the busy gale ; 
Ye bending swains, that dress the flowery vale i 
For me your tributary stores combine : 
Creation's heir, the world, the world is race. 



280 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



681. Tiik Natuhk m Eloquence. 
When public bodies are to be addressed, on 
momentous oecasions, when great interests 
are at stake, and strong passions excited, 
nothing is valuable in speech, farther than it 
is connected with high intellectual and mor- 
al endowments. Clearness, force, and earn- 
estness, are the qualities which produce con- 
viction. True eloquence, indeed, does not 
consist in speech. It cannot be brought from 
fer. Labor and learning may toil for it, but 
they will toil in vain. 

Words and phrases may be marshaled in 
every way, but they cannot compass it. It 
must exist in the man, in the subject, and in 
the occasion. Affected passion, intense ex- 
pression, the pomp of declamation, all may 
•spire after it, but cannot reach it. It comes, 
if it come at all, like the outbreaking of a 
fountain from the earth, or the bursting forth 
of volcanic fires, with spontaneous, original, 
uative force. 

The graces taught in the schools, the costly 
ornaments and studied contrivances of speech, 
shock and disgust men, when their own lives, 
and the fate of their wives, their children, and 
their country, hang on the decision of the 
hour. Then, words have lost their power, 
rhetoric is vain, and all elaborate oratory, 
contemptible. Even genius itself then feels 
reDuked, and subdued, as in the presence of 
higher qualities. 

Then, patriotism is eloquent; then, self- 
devotion is eloquent. The clear conception, 
cut-running the deductions of logic, the high 
purpose, of firm resolve, the dauntless spirit, 
speaking on the tongue, beaming from the 
eye, informing every feature, and urging the 
whole man onward, right onward to his ob- 
ject, — this — is eloquence. — Webster. 

6§2. THE soul's defiance. 
I said — to Sorrow's awful storm, 
- That beat against my breast, 
♦'Rage on! thou may'st destroy this form, 

And lay it low — at rest; 
But still — the spirit that now brooks 

Thy tempest, raging high, 
Undaunted, on its fury looks — 

With steadfast eye." 
I said — to Penury's meagre train, 

" Come on ! your threats I brave ; 
My last, poor life-drop — you may drain, 

And crush me — to the grave ; 
Yet still, the spirit, that endures, 

Shall mark your force — the while, 
And meet each cold, cold grasp of yours, 

With bitter smile." 
I said — to cold Neglect, and Scorn, 

" Pass on ! I heed you not ; 
Ye may pursue me, till my form, 

And being — are forgot ; 
Yet, still — the spirit, which you see 

Undaunted by your wiles, 
DrawB from its own nobility 

Its high-born smiles." 
m. said — to Friendship's menaced blow, 

"Strike deep! my heart shall bear; 
Tho l canst but add— one bitter wo 

T> those — already there; 
Ttet still — the spirit, that sustains 

This last — severe distress, 



Shall smile — upon its keenest pains, 

And scorn redress." 
I said to Death's uplifted dart, 

"Aim sure! oh, why delay? 
Thou wilt not find a fearful heart, 

A weak, reluctant prey ; 
For stiil — the spirit, firm, and free, 

Triumphant — in the last dismay, 
Wrapt — in its own eternity, 

Shall, smiling, pass away." 

683. PASSAGE OF THE REI SEA. 

'Mid the light spray, their snorting camels stood, 
Nor bath'd a fetlock, in the nauseous flood : 
He comes — their leader comes ! the man of God, 
O'er the wide waters, lifts his mighty rod, 
And onward treads. The circling waves retreat, 
In hoarse, deep murmurs, from his holy feet; 
And the chas'd surges, inly roaring, show 
The hard wet sand, and coral hills below. 
With limbs, that faker, and with hearts, that swell, 
Down, down they pass — a steep, and slippery driL 
Around them rise, in pristine chaos hurl'd, 
The ancient rocks, the secrets of the world ; 
And flowers, that blush beneath the ocean green, 
And caves, the sea-calves' low-roofd haunts, are 
Down,sq/e/(/down the narrowpass they lread;[seew. 
The beetling waters — storm above their head j 
While far behind, retires the sinking day, 
And fades on Edom's hills, its latest ray. 
Yet not from Israei — fled the friendly light, 
Or dark to them, or cheerless came the night ; 
Still, in their van, along that dreadful road, [God. 
Blaz'd broad and fierce, the brandish'd torch of 
Its meteor glare — a tenfold lustre gave, 
On the long mirror — of the rosy wave : 
While its blest beams — a sunlike heat supply, 
Warm every cheek, and dance in every eye. 
To them alone — for Misraim's wizard train 
Invoke, for light, their monster-gods in vain : 
Clouds heap'd on elf "ids, their struggling sight con 
And tenfold darkness broods above their line, [fine. 
Yet on they press, bv reckless vengeance led, 
And range, unconscious, through the ocean's bed. 
Till midway now — that strange, and fiery form, 
Show'd his dread visage, lightning through the 

storm ; 
With withering splendor, blasted all their might, 
And brake their chariot-wheels, and marred theiff 

coursers' flight. 
"Fly, Misraim, fly !" The ravenous floods they see, 
And, fieicer than the floods, the Deity. 
" Fly, Misraim, fly !" From Edom's coral strand, 
Again the prophet stretch'd his dreadful wand: 
With one wild crash, the thundering waters sweep, 
And all— is waves— a dark, and lonely deep — 
Yet, o'er these lonely waves, such murmurs past, 
As mortal wailing swell'd the nightly blast : 
And strange, and sad, the whispering breezes bora 
The groans of Egypt— to Arabia's shore.— lltb*. 

CONCEALED LOVE. 

She never told her love, 
But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, 
Feed on her damask cheek : she pin'd in though^ 
And, with a green and yellow melancholy, 
She sat like patience on a monument, 
Smiling at jrrief. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



287 



884. Greek Literature. It is wnpos- 
«ble — to contemplate the annals of Greek lit- 
erature, and art, without being struck with 
them, as by far the most extraordinary, and 
brilliant phenomenon, in the history or the hu- 
man mind. The very language, even in its 
primitive simplicity, as it came down from the 
rhapsodists, who celebrated the exploits of 
Hercules, and Theseus, was as great a won- 
der, as any it records. 

All the other tongues, that civilized men 
have spoken, are poor, and feeble, and bar- 
barous, in comparison of it. Its compass, 
and flexibility, its riches, and its powers, are 
altogether unlimited. It not only expresses, 
with precision, all that is thought, or known, 
at any given period, but it enlarges itself na- 
turally, with the progress of science, and af- 
rords, as if without an effort, a new phrase, or 
a systematic nomenclature, whenever one is 
called for. 

It is equally adapted to every variety of 
style, and subject, to the most shadowy sub- 
tlety of distinction, and the utmost exactness 
of definition, as well as to the energy, and the 
pathos of popular eloquence, to the majesty, 
the elevation, the variety of the Epic, and the 
boldest license of the Dithyrambic, no less 
than to the sweetness of the Elegy, the sim- 
plicity of the Pastoral, or the heedless gayety, 
and delicate characterization of Comedy. 

Above all, what is an unspeakable charm, a 
sort of naivete is peculiar to it, and appears 
in all those various styles, and is quite as be- 
coming, and agreeable, in an historian, or a 
ohilosopher, Xenophon for instance, as in the 
fight and jocund numbers of Anacreon. 

Indeed, were there no other object, in learn- 
ing Greek, but to see — to what perfection lan- 
guage is capable of being carried, not only as 
a medium of communication, but as an instru- 
ment of thought, we see not why the time of 
a young man would not be just as well be- 
stowed, in acquiring a knowledge of it, for all 
the purposes at least of a liberal, or element- 
ary education, as in learning algebra, another 
specimen of a language, or arrangement of 
signs perfect in its kind. — Legare. 

685. OU& exit: thanatopsis. 
To him, who, in the love of nature, holds 
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks 
A various language : for his gayer hours, 
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile, 
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides 
Into his dark musings, with a mild, 
And gentle sympathy, that steals away 
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. 

When thoughts — 
Of the last bitter hour, come like a blight 
Over tfr.y spirit, and sad images 
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, 
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, 
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart; 
Go fo» ;h into the open sky, and list 
To na.irs's teaching, while, from all around, 
Comes a still voice— 

"Yet a few days, and thee, 
The aF.-beholding sun shall see no more, 
In all his course; nor yet, in the cold ground, 
Where thy pale form vas laid, with many tears, 
Nor "n the embrace of ocean, shall exist 
Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim 
Thy growth, to !>• resolved to earth again; 



And, lost each human trace, surrendering ap 

Thine individual being, shalt ihou go, 

To mix forever with the elements, 

To be a brother— to th' insensible rock, 

And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain 

Tunis with his share, and treads upon. 

The oak— 
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy rat i. 
Yet not, to thy eternal resting place, 
Shalt thou retire, alone — nor could'st thou wi«k 
Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down 
With patriarchs of the infant world, with king*, 
The powerful of the earth, the wise, the good, 
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, 
All— in one— mighty sepulchre. 

The hills, 
Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun; the vales, 
Stretching in pensive quietness between; 
The venerable woods ; rivers, that move 
In majesty, and the complaining brooks [all, 

That make the meadows green; and, poured round 
Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste, 
Are but the solemn decorations all — 
Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, 
The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, 
Are shining on the sad abodes of death, 
Through the still lapse of ages. 

All that tread 
The globe, are but a handfull, to the tribes, 
That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings 
Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, 
Or, lose thyself in the continuous woods, 
Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, 
Save its own dashings — yet — the dead are there ; 
And millions in those solitudes, since first 
The flight of years began, have laid them down 
In their last sleep : the dead — reign there — alone. 

So shalt thou rest; and what, if thou shalt fall, 
Unnoticed by the living ; and no friend — 
Take note of thy departure? All that breathe 
Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh, 
When thou art gone; the solemn brood of care 
Plod on; and each one, as before, will chase 
His favorite phantom; yet, all these shall leave 
Their mirth, and their enjoyments, and shall come, 
And make their bed with thee. As the long train 
Of ages glide away, the sons of men, 
The youth, in life's green spring, and he, who goes 
In the full strength of years, matron, and maid, 
The bowed with age, the infant, in the smiles 
And beauty of its innocent age, cut off. — 
Shall, one by one, be gathered to thy side, 
By those, who, in their turn, shall follow them. 

So live, that when thy summons comes, to join 
The innumerable caravan, that moves 
To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take 
His chamber, in the silent halls of death, 
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, [ed. 
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained, and sooth- 
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, 
Like one, who wraps the drapery of his couch 
About him, and lies down— to pleasan cieams." 

It is jealousy's— peculiar nature, 
To swell small things— to great; nay, out 3f noufbt 
To conjure much, and then, lose its reason— 
Amic the hideous phantoms, — it has formed. 



288 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



686. Benefits of AGnicui/runE. Agri- 
culture — is the greatest among the arts; for 
it is lirst in supplying our necessities. It is 
the mother, ana nurse — of all other arts. It 
favors and strengthens population ; it creates 
and maintains manufactures ; gives employ- 
ment to navigation, and materials to com- 
merce. It animates every species of indus- 
try, and opens — to nations the surest channels 
of opulence. It is also the strongest bond of 
well regulated society, the surest basis of in- 
ternal peace, the natural association of good 
morals. 

We ought to count, among the benefits of 
agriculture, the charm, which the practice 
of it communicates to a country life. That 
charm, which has made the country, in our 
riew, the retreat of the hero, the asylum of 
the sage, and the temple of the historic 
muse. The strong desire, the longing after 
the country, with which we find the bulk 
of mankind to be penetrated, points to 
it as the chosen abode of sublunary bliss. 
The sweet occupations of culture, with her 
varied products and attendant enjoyments, 
are, at least, a relief from the stifling- atmos- 
phere of the city, the monotony of subdivided 
employments, the anxious uncertainty of com- 
merce, the vexations of ambition so often dis- 
appointed, of self-love so often mortified, of 
factitious pleasures, and unsubstantial vani- 
ties. 

Health, the first and best of all the blessings 
of life, is preserved and fortified by the prac- 
tice of agriculture. That state of well-being, 
which we feel and cannot define ; that self- 
satisfied disposition, which depends, perhaps, 
on the perfect equilibrium, and easy play of 
vital forces, turns the slightest acts to pleas- 
ure, and makes every exertion of our facul- 
ties a source of enjoyment; this inestimable 
state of our bodib' functions is most vigorous 
in the country, ai 4 if lost elsewhere, it is in 
the country we ei;<vct to recover it. 

The very theatre cr agricultural avocations, 
gives them a value tos; is peculiar; for who 
can contemplate, wit ha J emotion, the mag- 
nificent spectacle of natur \ srhen, arrayed in 
vernal hues, she renews me scenery of the 
world ! All things revive her p.? *erful voice 
— the meadow resumes its freshn^o and ver- 
dure ; a living sap circulates through every 
budding tree ; flowers spring to meet the 
warm caresses of Zephyr, and from their 
opening petals pour forth rich perfume. The 
songsters of the forest once more awake, and 
in tones of melody, again salute the coming 
dawn ; and again they deliver to the evening 
echo — their strains of tenderness and love. 
Can man — rational, sensitive man — can he 
remain unmoved by the surrounding pres- 
ence! and where else, than in the country, 
can he behold, where else can he feel — this 
jubilee of nature, this universal joy ! — Mac- 
Neven. 

4 
Let me lead you from this place of sorrow, 

To one where young delights attend ; and joys, 
Yet new, unborn, and blooming in the bud, 
Which want to be full-blown at your approach, 
And spread like roses, to the morning sun ; 
Where ev'ryhour shall roll in circling joys, 
And love shall wing the tedious— wasting day. 
Life without love, is load ; and time stands still ; 
What we refuse to him, to death we give ; 
An' tht-n, then only, when we love we live. 



687. THE AMERICAN FLAG. 

When Freedom— from her mountain iteigW 

Unfurl'd her standard— to the air, 
She tore the azure robe of night, 

And set the stars of glory — there. 
She mingled, with its gorgeous dyei 
The milky baldric— of the skies, 
And striped its pure— celestial white, 
With streakings of the morning light ; 
Then, from his mansion— in the sun 
She called her eagle-bearer — down, 
And gave— into his mighty hand, 
The symbol — of her chosen land. 
Majestic monarch— of the cloud, 

Who rear'st aloft— thy regal form, 
To hear the tempest-trumpings loud, 
And see the lightning lances driven, 

When strive — the warriors of the storm, 
And rolls— the thunder-drum of heaven,— 
Child of the sun ! to thee 'tis given, 

To guard the banner of the free, 
To hover — in the sulphur smoke, 
To ward away the battle-stroke, 
And bid its blendings— shine, afar, 
Like rainbows — on the cloud of war, 

The harbingers — of victory ! 
Flag of the brave ! thy folds shall fly, 
The sign of hope — and triumph high, 
When speaks the signal trumpet tone, 
And the long line — comes gleaming on. 
Ere yet the life-blood, warm and wet, 
Has dimm'd the glistening bayonet, 
Each soldier eye — shall brightly turn 
To where thy meteor glories burn ; 
And, as his springing steps advance, 
Catch war, and vengeance— from the glance 
And when the cannon-mouthings loud, 
Heave, in wild wreaths, the battle-shroud, 
And gory sabres rise, and fall, 
Like shoots of flame — on midnight's pall ; 
There shall thy victor glances glow, 

And cowering foes — shall fall beneath 
Each gallant arm, that strikes below — 

That lovely messenger of death. 
Flag of the seas ! on ocean's wave, 
Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave : 
When death, careering on the gale, 
Sweeps darkly — round the bellied sail, 
And frighted waves— rush wildly back — 
Before the broadside's reeling rack. 
Each dying wanderer of the bea, 
Shall look, at once, to heaven — and thee, 
And smile— to see thy splendors fly, 
In triumph — o'er his closing eye. 
Flag of the free heart's only home ! 

By angel hands — to valor given; 
Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, 

And all thy hues— were born in heaven. 
Forever float — that standard sheet ! 

Where breathes the foe — but falls beforo ««, 
With Freedom's soil — beneath our feet, 

And Freedom's banner — streaming o'er Wit 

His being was in her alone, 

And he not being; she was none. 

They joy'd one joy, one griet they griev 4, 

One !ov« they lov'd, one life they liv'd. 



HEADINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



<588. Tribute vo Washington. Hard, 
hard indeed, was the contest for freedom, and 
the struggle for independence. The golden 
sun of liberty — had nearly set, in the gloom 
of an eternal night, ere its radiant beams il- 
lumined our western horizon. Had not the 
tutelar saint of Columbia — hovered around 
the American camp, and presided over her 
destinies, freedom must have met with an 
untimely grave. Never, can we sum ciently ad- 
mire the wisdom of those statesmen, and the 
skill, and bravery, of those unconquerable ve- 
terans, who, by their unwearied exertions in 
the cabinet, and in the field, achieved for us 
the glorious revolution. Never, can we duly 
appreciate the merits of a Washington ; who, 
with but a handfull of undisciplined yeomanry, 
triumphed over a royal army, and prostrated 
the lion of England at the feet of the Ameri- 
can eagle. His name, — so terrible to his foes, 
so welcome to his friends, — shall live forever 
upon the brightest page of the historian, and 
be remembered, with the warmest emotions 
of gratitude, and pleasure, by those, whom 
he had contributedto make happy, and by 
aU mankind, when kings, and princes, and 
nobles, for ages, shall have sunk into their 
merited oblivion. Unlike them, he needs not 
the assistance of the sculptor, or the architect, 
to perpetuate his memory: he needs no 

{irincely dome, no monumental pile, no state- 
y pyramid, whose towering height shall 
pierce the stormy clouds, and rear its lofty 
head to heaven, to tell posterity his fame. 
His deeds, his worthy deeds, alone have ren- 
dered him immortal! When oblivion shall 
have swept away thrones, kingdoms, and 
principalities — when human greatness, and 
grandeur, and glory, shall have mouldered in- 
to dust, — eternity itself shall catch the glow- 
ing theme, and dwell with increasing rapture 
on his name ! — Gen. Harrison. 

689. THE BAROX'S LAST BANQUET. 
(f if a low couch —the setting sun — had thrown its latest ray, 
Where, in his last— strong agony— a dying warrior lay, 
The stern — old Baron Rudiger, whose frame — had ne'er been bent 
By wasting pain, till time, and toil — its iron strength had spent 
u They come around me here, and say my days of life are o'er, 
rt»t I shall mount my noble steed, and lead my band no more; 
Jley come, and to my heard— they dare to tell me now, that I, 
Their own liege lord, and master born, — that I, ha ! ha ! must die. 
And what f* death ? I 've dared him eft — before the Paynim spear, 
Think ye he 's entered at my gate, has come to seek me here ? 
'» e met him, faced him, scorn'd him, when the fight was raging 
hot,— 
1 11 try his might— I 'U brave his power : defy, and fear him not 
H: . »ound the tocsin from my tower,— and fire the culverin, — 
But e>ch retainer — arm with speed, — call every vassal in, 
X'\> with my banner on the wall, — the banquet board prepare, — 
Throw wide the portal of my hall, and bring my armor there !" 
An hundred hands were busy then, — the banquet forth wai spread, 
And rung— the heavy oaken floor, with many a martial tread ; 
While from the rich, lark tracery— along the vaulted wall, 
Lights — gleamed on harness, plume and spear, o'er the proud old 

Gothic hall. 
Fact hurrying through the outer gate— the mailed retainers pour'd, 
On thro' the portal's frowning ai^h, and throng'd around the board. 
While, at its head, within his dark, carved oaken chair of state, 
Armed cap-a-pie, stern Rudiger, with girded falchion, sate. 
■ Fill every breaker up, my men, pour forth the cheering whe, 
There's life, and strength— in every drop, — thanksgiving to the vine! 
Are ys all there, m;- vassals true ? — mine eyes are waxing dim ; — 
Till round, my tried and iearles» ones, each goblet to the Drim. 
to "re tnere, but yet I see ye not- Draw forth each trusty sword, 
And let me near your faithful steel clash, ence around my board : 
bear it faintly :— Louder yet!— What clogs my heavy breath? 
•.» aU,— and shout for Rudiger, ' Defianu unto Death ."" 

BitONSON. ]9 2B 



Bowl— rang to bowl,— stetl— clanged to steel, -and rose a 

ing cry, * 
That made the torches flare around, and shook the flags on higfct 
" Ho ! craven*, do ye fear him ?— Slaves, traitors ! have ye flow*) 
Ho ! cowards, have ye left me to meet him here alone ! 
But /defy him :— let him come !" Down rang the mas?y cup, 
While, from its sheath, the ready blade came flashing lialf- way jp; 
And, with the black, and heavy plumes — scarce trembling on h« 

head, 
There— in his dark, carved, oaken chair, Old Rudiger nt, 4t*L 
690. QUEEN MAB. 

O then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you. 
She is the fairy's midwife, and she comes 
In shape, no bigger than an agate-stone, 
On the forefinger of an alderman; 
Drawn with a team of little atomies, 
Athwart men's noses, as they lie asleep : 
Her wagon spokes — made of long spinner's legl 
The cover — of the wings of grasshoppers; 
The traces — of the smallest spiders web ; 
The collars — of the moonshine's watery beams ; 
Her whip) — of cricket's bone; her lash — of film; 
Her wagoner — a small gray-coated gnat, 
Not half so big — as a round — little worm, 
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid ; 
Her chariot — is an empty hazel-nut, 
Made by the joiner-squirrel, or old grub, 
Time out of mind, the fairies' coach-makers. 
And in this state she gallops, night by night, 
Thro' lovers' brains, and then they dream of lovat 
On courtiers' knees, that dream on curtsies strait; 
O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fee*: 
O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream 
Sometimes, she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, 
And then, dreams he of smelling out a suit: 
And sometimes comes she, with a tithe-pig's treiL, 
Tickling the parson, as he lies asleep ; 
Then dreams he — of another benefice. 
Sometimes, she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, 
And then he dreams of cutting foreign throats, 
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, 
Of healths five fathoms deep; and then anon 
Drums in his ears, at which he starts, and wakes; 
And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two, 
And sleeps again. — Shakspeare. 

Youth and Age. When the summer day 
of youth — is slowly wasting away into the 
nightfall of age, and the shadows of past years 
grow deeper and deeper, as life wears to its 
close, it is pleasant to look back, through the 
vista of time, upon the sorrows and felicities 
of our earlier years. If we have a home to 
shelter, and hearts to rejoice with us, and 
friends have been gathered together around 
our firesides, then, the rough places of our 
wayfaring will have been worn and smoothed 
away, in the twilight of life, while the sunny 
spots we have passed through, will grow 
brighter and more beautiful. Happy, indeed, 
are they, whose interference with the world 
has not changed the tone of their holier feel- 
ings, or broken those musical chords of the 
heart, whose vibrations are so melodious, so 
tender and touching, in the evening of age. 

When Learning's triumph o'er her barbarous foe* 
First rear'd the stage, immortal Shakspeare rose. 
Each change of many-cok>rd life he drew; 
Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd new : 
Existence — saw him spurn her bounded regn; 
And panting Time — toil'd after him in vaia. 



e&o 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



691. 1 UF. I'ASSivr, oe Tut RcBICOX. A 

gentleman, Mr. President, .peaking of Ce- 
sar's benevolent ihsposi&ft, and of the re- 
luctance, with which he '.r^ rod into the civil 
war. observes, M How lougchd be pause upon 

the brink of the Rubicon .'" How came he 
to the brink of that river! How dared he 
cross it ! Shall private men respect the boun- 
daries of private property, ana shall a man 
pay no respect to the boundaries of his coun- 
try's rights! How dared he cross that riv- 
er . Oh ! but he paused upon the brink ! He 
should have perished upon the brink, ere he 
had crossed it! Why did he pause? Why 
does a man's heart palpitate when he is on the 
point of committing an unlawful d-jed ! Why 
does the very murderer, his victim sleeping 
before him, and his glaring eye, taking the 
measure of the blow, strike wide of the mor- 
tal parti Because of conscience! 'Twas 
that made Cesar pause upon Jio orink of the 
Rubicon. Compassion! Writ compassion! 
The compassion of an assvXn, that feels a 
momentary shudder, as h-> weapon begins 
to cut ! Cesar paused ivpc.> the brink of the 
Rubicon! What was 'It Rubicon! The 
boundary of Cesar's r tfi.ee. From what 
did it separate his provi j j. { From his coun- 
try. Was that counJf/ •» desert! No: it 
was cultivated and fr /,'<>; rich and popu- 
lous ! Its sons were Lften of genius, spirit, 
and generosity ! Its daughters were lovely, 
susceptible, and chaste ! Friends-hip was its 
inhabitant! Love was its inhabitant! Do- 
mestic affection was its inhabitant ! Liberty 
was its inhabitant! All bounded by the 
stream of the Rubicon! What was Cesar, 
that stood upon the bank of that stream '! A 
traitor, bringing war and pestilence into the 
heart of that country ! No wonder that he 
paused — no wonder if, his imagination 
wrought upon by his conscience, he had be- 
held blood — instead of water; and heard 
groans, instead of murmurs ! No wonder if 
some gorgon horror had turned him into stone 
upon the spot! But, no! — he cried, "The 
die is cast!" He plunged! — he crossed! — 
and Rome was free no more ! — Knowles. 
692. LORD ullin's daughter. 
A chieftain— to the Highlands bound, 

Cries. " Boatman, do not tarry ! 
And I'll give thee a silver pound, 

To row us — o'er the ferry." 
"Now, who be ye — would cross Loch-Gyle, 

This dark — and stormy water ?" 

" O ! 1 'm the chief of Ulva's isle, 

And this — lord Ullin's daughter. 

" And fast before her father's men. 

Three days — we 've fled together, 

For should lie find us in ihe glen, 

My blood — would stain the heather. 
1 His horsemen — hard behind us ride; 

Should they our steps discover. 
Then who will cheer my bonny bride, 

When they have slain her lover?" 
Out spoke the hardy, Highland wight, 

" I '11 go, my chief— I 'm ready : 
It is not for your silver bright, 
But for your winsome lady: 
"And, by my word ! the bonny bird 

In dangeT, shall not tarry ; 
So, though the waves are raging white, 

I '11 row you o'er the ferry." 
By this, the storm grew loud — apace, 
The water-wraith — was shrieking ; 
/nd, in the scowl of heaven, each face 
Grew dark— as they were speaking. 



But Still, as wilder grew the wind, 

And as the night — grew drearer, 
Adown the glen — rode armed men, 

Their trampling — sounded nearer. 
"O haste thee, haste." the lady crie* 

"Though tempests round us gather 
1 'II meet ihe raging of the skies, 

But .iot an angry father." 
I"..t boat— has left the stormy land, 

A stormy sea — before her — 
When, oh ! too strong for human hani, 

The tempest — gathered o'er her. 
And still they rowed, amidst the roar 

Of waters, fast prevailing: 
Lord Ullin— reached that fatal shore. 

His wrath — was changed to wailing. 
For, sore dismayed, through storm, and the »^ 

His child — he did discover; 
One lovely hand — she stretched for aid, 

And one — was round her lover. 
" Come back ! come back !" he cried in gris^ 

"Across this stormy water : 
And I '11 forgive your Highland chief: 

My daughter ! oh, my daughter!" 
Twas vain: the loud waves — lashed the shore, 

Return, or aid — preventing : 
The waters wild went o'er his child, 

And he was left— lamenting. — Campbell. 

693. Progress of Government. In 

government, as in science, it is useful, often 
to review its progress, and to revert, even te 
its simplest elements. It will be salutary, fre- 
quently to ascertain, how far society, and 
laws, in their present condition, accord with 
those, which we have been accustomed to 
consider, as their first and purest principles; 
how far, in the lapse of time, they may liave 
deviated from their original form and struc- 
ture. Even when we recur to inquiries, 
merely speculative, to imaginary " social con- 
tracts,'' to abstract rights, we may often gath- 
er instruction, and detect some concealed, or 
neglected truth, applicable to our own tiraes 
and to our own immediate condition. 

But when a government is derived, not 
from fictitious assumptions, not from ancient 
or obscure sources, or traditions, but, from 
actual, and specific agreement; when many, 
and various interests have been combined 
and compromised, and a written covenant 
has assured to many parties, rights, and pow- 
ers, and privileges, it becomes a duty to re- 
vise this compact frequently and strictly, that 
no one entitled to its protection may be de- 
prived, through inadvertence on the one part, 
or encroachment on the other, of his vested 
rigMs ; and that no changes may be introdu- 
ced into the compact, but by the actual con 
sent of those, who are parties to the covenant 

Every spirit, as it is most pure, 

And hath in it the more of heavenly light, 
So it the fairer body doth procure 

To habit in, and it more fairly diglit 

With cheerful grace, and amiable sight; 
For of the soul, the body form doth take, 
For soul is form, and doth the body make. 
For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, 

This pleasing anxious being e'ei resigned, 
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, 

Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind f 
On some fond breast the parting soul relies, 

Some pious drops the closing eye require! : 
Ev'n from the tomb, the voice of nature cries, 

Ev'n in our ashes live their wonted firea. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



291 



©•4. Advantages of Knowledge. 
Knowledge, in general, cxpaids the mind, 
exalts the faculties, refines the taste of pleas- 
ure, and opens innumerable sources of intel- 
lectual enjoyment. By means of it, we be- 
come less" dependent for satisfa, tion upon 
the sensitive appetites ; the gross pleasures 
of sense are more easily despised, and we 
are made to feel the superiority of the spiri- 
tual to the material part of our nature. In- 
stead of being continually solicited by the in- 
fluence, and irritation of sensible objects, the 
mind can retire within herself, and expatiate 
in the cool and quiet walks of contemplation. 
The poor man, who can read, and who 
possesses a taste for reading, can find enter- 
tainment at home, without being tempted to 
repair to the public house for that purpose. 
His mind can find him employment, when his 
body is at rest ; he does not lie prostrate, and 
afloat, on the current of incidents, liable to 
be carried, whithersoever the impulse of ap- 
petite may direct. There is, in the mind of 
such a man, an intellectual spring, urging 
him to the pursuit of mental good ; and if 
the minds of his family, also, are a little cul- 
tivated, conversation becomes the more interr 
estmg, and the sphere of domestic enjoyment 
enlarged. 

The calm satisfaction, which books afford, 
puts him into a dispos' ion to relish, more 
exquisitely, the tranquil delight, inseparable 
from the indulgence of c mjugal, and paren- 
tal affection : and as he will be more respect- 
able, in the eyes of his family, than he. who 
can teach them nothing, he will be naturally 
induced to cultivate, whatever may preserve, 
and shun whatever would impair that re- 
spect. He, who is inured to reflection, will 
carry his views beyond the present hour; he 
will extend his prospect a little into futurity, 
and be disposed to make some provision for 
his approaching wants ; whence will result, 
an increased motive to industry, together 
with a care to husband his earnings, and to 
avoid unnecessary expense. 

The poor man who has gained a taste for 
good books, will, in all likelihood, become 
thoughtful, and when you have given the 
poor a habit of thinking, you have conferred 
on them a much greater favor, than by the 
gift of a large sum of money ; since you have 
put them in possession of the principle of all 
legitimate prosperity. — R. Hall. 

time's softening power. 
As the stern grandeur of a Gothic tower 
Awes not so deeply in its morning hour, 
As when the shades of time serenely fall 
On every broken arch and ivied wall ; 
The tender images we love to trace, 
Steal from each year a melancholy grace ! 
And as the sparks of social love expand ; 
As the heart opens in a foreign land, 
And with a brother's warmth, a brother's smiie, 
The stranger greets each native of his isle ; ' 
So scenes of life, wnen present and confest, 
Stamp but their bolder features on the breast ; 
Yet not an image, when remotely viewed, 
However trivial and however rude, 
But wins the heart and wakes the social sigh, 
With every claim of close affinity. 
Hope and fear, alternate, swayed his breast, 
Like light— and shade — upon a waving field. 
Coursing earh other, when the flying clouds 
"Sow bide — and bow reveal— the sua. 



695. VICTIM BRIDE AND MISER. 
I saw her — in her summer bower, and oh ! upon my sig »t, 
Methought there never beam'd a form more beautiful, and bright 
So young, so fair, she seemed like one of Ihoie aerial ihings, 
That dwell— but in the poet's high, and wiiJ imaginings; 
Or, like one of those forms, we meet in dreams, from wluob vn 

wake and weep, 
That earth— has no creations, like the figments of our sleep. 
Her father — lov'd he not his child — above all earthly things* 
As traders love the merchandize, from which their profit spnnjs: 
Old age came by, with tottering step, and, for sordid gold, 
With which the dotard urged his suit, the maiden's peace was soldi 
Ana thus, (for oh ! her sire's stern heart — was steel'd against bcr 

prayer,) 
The hand he ne'er had gain'd from love, he won from her detpmifs 
I saw them through the church-yard pass, and such a nuptial trahy 
I would not forthe wealth of worlds, should greet my sight agui 
The bridemaids, each as beautiful as Eve — in Eden's bowers, 
Shed bitter tears — upon the path they should have strown ■* til 

lowers; 
Who had not thought, that white-rob'd band— the fwxeral irray 
Of one— an early doom had call'd— from life's gay scene away ? 
The priest — beheld the bridal pair before the altar stand, 
Andsigh'd, as he drew forth his book, with slow, relucta.it baud ; 
He saw the bride's flow'r-wreath'd hair, he mark'd her streaming 

eyes, 
And deein'd it less a christian rite, than a pagan sacrifi-x ; 
And when he called on Abraham's God to bless the wedd-d pair, 
It seem'd a very mockery — to breath so vain a prayer. 
I saw the palsy'd bridegroom too, in youth's gay ensign dress'd, 
A shroud — were fitter garment far — for him, than bridal vest; 
I marked him, when the ring was claim'd, 'twas hard to loose bit 

hold, 
He held it— with a miser's clutch; it was his darling gold; 
His shrivell'd hand — was wet with tears, she shed, alas ! in vain, 
And trembled like an autumn leaf— beneath the beating rain. 
I've seen her since that fatal morn : hor golden fetters rest — 
As e'en the weight of incubus— upon her aching breast ; 
And when the victor {death,) shall come, to aeai the welcome 

blow, [srow ; 

He will not find one rose — to swell the wreath, that decks hit 
For oh ! her cheek is blanched with grief, that time— may not 

assuage ; «age. 

Thus early— beauty— sheds her bloom— on the wintry breast Oi 

696. THE DEW-DROP IN SPRING. 

How pure ! how bright is the tiny tiling ! 

It beams where the birds of the morning sing; 

It looks like the tear from an angel's eye, 

Or a pearl that has dropped from the vernal sky 

To deck the silvery robe of the dawn, 

As it weds the flowers on the grassy lawn. 

In the silver cup of the daisy it lies ; 

It smiles on the lark as he upward flies ; 

In a chariot of cloud it shall glide to the sun " 

On a pathway of incense its course shall be run* 

It returns again on a sunset ray, 

And forgets in its slumber the sports of the day. 

The emblem of virtue unsullied, it seems— 

The emblem of beauty we see in our dreams ; 

'Tis a pledge of faith, by the breeze to be given, 

With amorous sighs to the clouds of heaven. 

Oil, who can tell, but the fairies keep 

Their nightly watch where the dew-drops gleep ' 

When the rose unfolds its voluptuous charm, 

When the sun is high, and the earth grows warrr^ 

'Tis then that the dew-drop shines most bright, 

'Tis then that it rivals the diamond's light, 

As it bids farewell to the fairy scene, 

And melts into air where its bower has been. 

All men — think all men mortal, but themselves , 

Themselves, when some alarming shock of fate. 

Strikes thro' their wounded hearts the sudden dread 



292 



READINGS AND RFXITATIONS. 



©97. Specimen" of Inuiax Language. 
We are happy, in having buried, under 
ground, Ihe red axe, that has so often been 
oyed — w itli tlie blood of our brethren. Now, 
in this rbrt. we inter the axe, and plant the 
tree of Peace. We plant a tree, whose top 
will reach the sun, and its branches spread 
abroad, so that it shall be seen afar off. May 
its growth never be stilled and choked; but 
may it sh ide both your country and ours 
with its leaves. Let us make fast its roots, 
and extend them to the uttermost of your 
colonies. I f the French should come to shake 
this tree, we should know it by the motion 
of its roots reaching into our country. May 
the Great Spirit — allow us to rest, in tran- 

Suillity, upon our mats, and never again 
ig up the axe, to cut down the tree of Peace ! 
Let the earth be trod hard over it, where it 
lies buried. Let a strong stream run under 
the pit, to wash the evil away, out of our 
sight and remembrance. The fire, that had 
long burned in Albany, is extinguished. The 
bloody bed is washed clean, and the tears are 
wiped from our eyes. We now renew the 
lovenant-chain of friendship. Let it be kept 
b ight and clean as silver, and not suffered to 
contract any rust. Let not any one pull 
away his arm from it. 

MARSEILLES HYMN OF LIBERTY. 

Ye sons of Freedom, wake to glory ! 

Hark ! hark, what myriads bid you rise ! 
Your children, wives, and grandsires, hoary, 

Behold their tears— and hear their cries. 
Shall hateful tyrants, mischiefs breeding, 

With hireling hosts, a ruffian band, 

Affright and desolate the land, 
While peace and liberty— lie bleeding? 

To arms t to arms ! ye brave ! 

Th' avenging sword unsheath : 
March on, march on, all hearts resolv'd, 

On victory — or death. 

Now, now, the dangerous storm is rolling, 

Which treacherous kings, confederate, raise; 
The dogs of war, let loose, are howling, 

And lo : our fields arid citie3— blaze, 
And shall we basely— view the ruin, 

While lawless force with guilty stride, 

Spreads desolation— far and wide, 
With crimes and blood, his hands imbruing'? 

To arms t to arms ! ye brave, &c. 
With luxury and pride surrounded, 

The vile — insaiiate despots dare, 
Their thirst of power and gold unbounded, 

To mete, and vend — the light — and air. 
3 ike beasts of burden— would they load us, 

Like gods — would bid their slaves adore, 

But man— is man, and who is more? 
Then shall they longer lash and goad us ? 

To 07ms / to arms ! ye brave, ice. 
Oh, Liberty, can man resign thee, 

Once — having felt thy generous flame ? 
Can dungeons, bolts, and bars confine thee ; 

Or whip*, thy noble, spirit tame ? 
Too long— the world has wept, bewailing, 

That falsehood's dagger— tyrants wield, 

But Freedom— is our sword, and shield, 
And all their arts are unavailing. 

To arms! to abmb! ye brave, fcc. 



698. OTHELLO S A POLOGt. 

.Most potent, grave, and reverend scit>n ; om: 
My very noble, and approv'd good masters: 
That 1 have ta'en away this Did man's daughter 
It is most true ; true, I have married her : 
The very head and front of my offending 
Hath this extent ; no more. 

Rude am I in speech, 
And little blessed with the set phrase of peace: 
For since these arms of mine had seven yeait' 
pith, [ua'd 

Till now some nine moons wasted, they haw 
Their dearest action in the tented field; 
And little of this great world can I speak, 
More than pertains to feats of broils and battle j 
And therefore, liitle shall I grace my cause, 
Iw speaking of myself. Yet, by your patience, 
I will, a round, unvarnish'd tale deliver, 
Of my whole course of love ; what drugs, what 

charms, 
What conjuration, and what mighty magic, 
(For such proceedings I am charg'd withal) 
I won his daughter with. 
Her father lov'd me ; oft invited me ; 
Still questioned me the story of my life, 
From year to year : the battles, sieges, fortune* 
That I had past. 

I ran it through, e'en from my boyish days, 
To the very moment, that he bade me tell it. 
Wherein I spake of most disastrous chancei: 
Of moving accidents by flood, and field: 
Of hairbreath 'scapes, in the imminent dead* 
Of being taken by the insolent foe, [breacb 

And sold to slavery ; of my redemption thence. 
And with it all my travel's history. 

All these to hear, 
Would Desdemona seriously incline ; 
But still the house affairs would draw her thence, 
Which ever as she couJd with haste despatch, 
She'd come again, and with a greedy ear, 
Devour up my discourse. Which, I observing, 
Took once a pliant hour, and found good mean* 
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart, 
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate ; 
Whereof by parcels, she had something heard, 
But not distinctly. 

I did consent ; 
And often did heguile her of her tears, 
W T hen I did speak of some distressful stroke. 
That my youth suffer'd. My story being di ne, 
She gave me for my pains, a world of sighs. 
She swore in faith ; 'twas strange, 'twas passing 
'Twas pitiful ; 'twas wondrous pitiful ; [strange; 
She wish'd she had not heard it: yet she wish'd 
That heaven— had made her such a man. 
She thank'd me, 
And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her, 
I should but teach him how to tell my story, 
And that would woo her. On this hint I spakej 
She lov'd me, for the dangers I had pass'd ; 
And I lov'd her, that she did pity them. 
This is the only witchcraft, which I've uaed. 
Some, light of heart, may scorn, ir later yean. 

Those dear memorials— of a calmer time; 
While others— water them with life's last tears, 

And bear their faded char ins from clime to clime 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



291 



•99. Majesty of the Law. How im- 

Eosing — is the majesty of the law ! how calm 
er dignity ; how vast — her power ; how firm, 
and tranquil, in her reign ! It is not by fleets, 
and arms, by devastation, and wrong, by op- 
pression, and blood — she maintains her sway, 
and executes her decrees. Sustained by jus- 
tice, reascm, and the great interests of man, 
ahe but speaks, and is obeyed. Even those, 
who do not approve, hesitate not — to support 
her; and the individual, upon whom her 
judgment falls, knows, that subn ssion — is 
not only a duty, he must perform, but, that 
the security, and enjoyment, of all that is 
dear to him, depend upon it. 

A mind — accustomed to acknowledge no 
power, but physical force, no obedience, but 
personal fear, must view, with astonishment, 
a feeble individual, sitting, with no parade 
of strength, surrounded by no visible agents 
of power, issuing his decrees with oracular 
authority ; while the rich, and the great, the 
first and the meanest — await, alike, to per- 
form his will. Still more wonderful is it — to 
behold the co-ordinate officers of the same 
. government, yielding their pretensions to his 
higher influence: the executive, the usua,l 
depository and instrument of power; the 
legislature — even the representative of the 
people, yield a respectful acquiescence — to 
the judgments of the tribunals of the law, 
pronounced by the minister, and expounder 
of the law. Is it enough for him to say — " It 
is the opinion of the court — " and the farthest 
corner of our republic — feels, and obeys the 
mandate. What a sublime spectacle ! This 
is indeed, the empire of the law ; and safe, 
and happy — are all they, who dwell within 
it — Hopkinson. 

700. SPEECH OF CATILINE, BEFOEE THE ROMAN 
SENATE, ON HEARING HIS SENTENCE OF BANISHMENT. 

" Banish'd — from Rome !" — what's banish'd.but set 
From daily contact — of the things I loathe ! [free 
'Tried — and convicted traitor!"— Who says this? 
Who '11 prove it, at his peril, on my head ? [chain ! 
A Banished 1" — I thank you for 't. It breaks my 
i held some slack allegiance till this hour — 
Butrzoio — my sword 's my own. Smile on, my lords; 
I scorn — to count what feelings, withered hopes, 
Strong provocations, bitter, burning wrongs, 
I have within my heart's hot cells shut up, 
To leave you— in your lazy dignities. 
But here I stand and scoff you: — here I fling 
, Hatred, and full defiance in your face. 

Your consul's merciful. For this — all thanks. 

He dares not touch a hair of Catiline. 

B Traitor ! r I go— but I return. This— trial ! 

Here I devote your senate ! I've had wrongs, 

To stir a fever in the blood of age, 

Or make the infant's sinew strong as steel. 

This day's the birth of sorrows! — This hour's work 

Will breed proscriptions.— Look to your hearths, 

my lords, 
For there, henceforth, shall sit, for household gode, 
Shapes hot from Tartarus ! all shames, and crimes; 
Wan Treachery, with his thirsty dagger drawn; 
Suspicion, poisonirg his brother's cup; 
Naked Rebellion, with the torch, and axe, 
Making his wild sport— of your blazing thrones ; 
Till Anarchy — comes down on you, like Night, 
trJl Massacre seals Rome's eternal grave— Croly. 

2»2 



101. DOCTOR AND PUT2-. 

A pupil of the Esculapian school, 
Was just prepared to quit his master's rules 
Not that he knew his trade, as it appears, 
But that he then had learnt it seven yeara. 

One morn, he thus addressed his master : 
" Dear sir, my honored father bids me say, 
If I could now and then a visit pay, 
He thinks, with you, — to notice how you do, 

My business I might learn a little faster." 

" The thought is happy," the preceptor criet; 
" A better method he could scarce devke ; 
So Bob," (his pupil's name) " it shall be to', 
And when I next pay visits, you shall go. n 

To bring that hour, alas ! time briskly fled: 

With dire intent away ihey went, 

And now, behold them at a patient's bed 

The master-doctor solemnly perused 

His victim's face, and o'er his symptoms mused; 

Looked wise, said nothing— an unerring way, 

When people nothing have to say: 

Then felt his pulse, and smelt his cane,- 

And paused, and blinked, and smelt again, 

And briefly of his corps performed each motion 
Manoeuvres that for Death's platockn are meant : 
A kind of a Make-ready-and-Present, 

Before the fell discharge of pill and potion. 

At length, the patient's wife he thus addressed: 
" Madam, your husband's danger 's great, 
And (what will never his complaint abate,) 
The man 's been eating oysters, I perceive R — 
' ; Dear ! you 're a witch, I verily believe,-' 

Madam replied, and to the truth confessed. 

Skill so prodigious, Bobby, too, admired ; 
And home returning, of the sage inquired 

How these same oysters came into his head? 
<; Psha ! my dear Bob. the thing was plain — 
Sure that can ne'er distress thy brain; 

I saw the shells lie underneath the bed." 
So wise, by such a lesson grown, 
Next day, Bob ventured out alone, 

And to the self-same sufferer paid his court — 
But soon, with haste ar.d wonder out of breath, 
Returned the stripling minister of death, 

And to his master made this dread report: 
" Why, sir, we ne'er can keep that patient under" 

Zounds ! such a man I never came across! 
The fellow must be dying, and no wonder, 

For ne'er believe me if he has n't eat a horse;'* 
" A horse !" the elder man of physic cried, 
As if he meant his pupil to deride — 
" How got so wild a notion in your head V 

" How ! think not in my duty I was idle ; 
Like ycu, I took a peep beneath the bed, 

And there I saw a saddle and a bridle !" 

Mr. Locke — was asked, how he had con- 
trived to accumulate a mine of knowledge 
so rich, yet so extensive and so deep. He 
replied, that he attributed what little he 
knew — to the not having been ashamed 
to ask for information, and to the rule ne 
had laid down, of conversing with all de- 
scriptions of men, on those topics chiefly, 
that formed their own peculiar professions 
or pursuits. 



2<J4 



READINGS AND REJITATIONS. 



703. The Resurrection of the Loud. 
Twice — had the mm — gone down upon the 
earth, and all as yet, was sitettt — at the sep- 
ulchre. Death — held his sceptre — over the 
Son of God. Still — and silent — the hours 
passed on ; the guards — stood at their post ; 
the rays or the midnight moon — gleamed on 
their he/met*, and on their spears. The ene- 
mies of Christ — exulted in their success ; the 
hearts of his friends — were sunk in despon- 
dency ; the spirits of glory — waited, in anx- 
ious suspense — to behold the event, and won- 
dered — at the depth — of the ways of God. 
At length, the morning star, arising in the 
east, announced the approach of light. The 
third day — began to dawn upon the ivorld; 
when, on a sudden, the earth — trembled — to 
its centre ; and the powers of heaven were 
ghaken ; an angel of God — descended ; the 
guards — shrunk back — from the terror of 
his presence, and fell prostrate — on the 
ground. "His countenance — was like light- 
ning, and his raimen/— white as snow." He 
rolled away the stone from the door of the 
sepulchre, and sat upon it. But who is this, 
that cometh forth from the tomb, with dyed 
garments — from the bed of death ? He, that 
is glorious in his appearance, walking in the 
greatness — of his strength ? It is thy prince, 
O Zion ! Christian, it is your Lord .' He 
hath trodden the wine-mess alone ; he hath 
stained his raiment with blood; but now, as 
the first born — from the womb of nature, he 
meets — the morning of his resurrection. He 
arises a conqueror — from the grave ; he re- 
turns with blessings — from thewJrld of spir- 
its ,- he brings salvation — to the sons of men. 
Never — did the returning sun — usher in a 
day so glorious. It was the jubilee — of the 
universe. The morning stars sung together, 
and all the sons of God shouted aloud — for 
Joy. The Father of mercies — looked down 
from his throne in the heavens ,- with com- 
placency he beheld his world — restored; he 
saw his work, that it was good. Then, did 
the desert rejoice, the face of nature was 
gladdened before him, when the blessings of 
the Eternal descended, as the dews of heav- 
en, for the refreshing of the nations. 

703. SLANDER. 

What is slander? 
Tis an assassin — at the midnight hour 
Urged on by Envy, that, whh footstep soft, 
Steals on the slumber — of sweet innocence, 
And with the dark drawn dagger of the mind, 
Drinks deep — the crimson current of the heart. 
It is a worm, that crawls on beauty's cheek, 
'.like the vile viper — in a vale of flowers, 
And riots in ambrosial blossoms there 
It is a coward — in a coat o f mail. 
That wages war — against the brave, and wise, 
And, like the long lean lizard, that will mar 
The lion's sleep, it wounds the noblest breast. 
Oft have I seen— this demon of the soul, 
This murderer of sleep, with visage smooth, 
And countenance — serene as heaven's own sky ; 
But storms — were raving — in the world of thought : 
Oft, have I geen a smile— upon its brow; 
But, like the lightning — from a stormy cloud, 
It shocked the soul — and disappeareu in darkness. 
Oft, have I seen i f weep— at tales of ivo, [anguish; 
And sigl -as 'twere the heart — would break with 
But, hk>. '.he drop, that drips from Java's tree, 



And the fell blast, that sweeps Arabian sat da. 
It witliered — every floweret of the vale. 

I saw it tread upon a li,i fair, 
Amaid — of whom the ivorld — could say no h irm 
And, when she sunk — beneath the ni.mal wtund 
It broke — into the sacred sepulchre, 
And dragged its victim — from the hallowed |nra^ 
For public eyes to gaze on. It hath wept, 
That from the earth — its victim passed awny^ 
Ere it had taken vengeance — on his virtues. 
Yea, I have seen this cursed child of Envy, 
Breathe mildew — on the sacred fame — of Aira», 
Who once had been his country's benefactor; 
And, on the sepulchre — of his repose, 
Bedewed with many a tributary tear, 
Dance, in the moonlight of a summer's afcy, 
With savage satisfaction.-^-Milford Bard. 

THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM. 

When marshaled — on the nightly plain, 

The glittering host — bestud the sky ; 
One star alone, of all the train, 

Can fix the sinner's wandering eye. 
Hark ! hark ! to God— the chorus breaks, 

From every host, from every gem ; 
But one alone, the Savior speaks, 

It is the star of Bethlehem. 
Once, on the raging seas I rode ; 

The storm was loud, the night was dark, 
The ocean yawned, and rudely blow'd 

The wind, that tossed my foundering bark. 
Deep horror, then, my vitals froze, 

Death-struck, I ceased :he tide to steir , 
When suddenly, a star arose, 

It was the si^r of Bethlehem 
It was my guide, my light, my all, 

It bade my dark forebodings cease. 
And through the storm, and danger's thr* * 

It led me — to the port of peace. 
Now, safely moor'd — my perils o'er, 

I '11 sing, first in night's diadem. 
Forever, and forever more, 

The.ster, the star of Bethlehem. — White ' 

EVE'S LOVE FOR ADAM. 

Tq whom thus Eve, with perfect beauty adorri'd. 
" My author and disposer, what thou bid'st 
Unargued I obey : so God ordains; 
God is thy law, thou mine : to know no more 
Is woman's happiest knowledge and her praise. 
With thee conversing I forget all time ; 
All seasons and their change, all please alike. 
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, 
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the iun, 
When first on this delightful land he spreads 
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fiuit, and floww, 
Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth 
After soft showers ; and sweet the coming on 
Of gratefui evening mild ; then silent night, 
With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon, 
And these gems of heaven, her starry train: 
But neither breath of morn, when she ascend* 
With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun 
On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower. 
Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after showery 
Nor grateful evening mild : nor silent night, 
With this her solemn bird ; nor walk by 
Or glittering starlight, without thee is sweet 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



295 



704» The Female Character. If we 
glance at those domestic relations, which wo- 
man sustains, she appears in an attitude 
highly interesting. Is she a daughter? She 
has a strong hold on the parental bosom. By 
her kind, discreet, obedient, dutiful conduct, 
she contributes greatly to the happiness of 
those, who tenderly love her, and who are 
her natural guardians, and guides. Or, by 
the opposite conduct, she disappoints their 
hopes, and pierces their hearts with sorrow. 
Just in proportion to the superior strength, 
•nd tenderness of parental affection, is the 
happiness or misery resulting from the kind, 
or unkind deportment of a daughter. 

Is she a sister ? If intelligent and virtu- 
ous, she sheds the most kindly influence on 
the little circle of kindred spirits in which 
she daily moves. Is she a wife ? The rela- 
tion is most endearing, and its duties most 
important. Taken, originally, from man's 
heart, she is ever to be his most kind, affec- 
tionate and faithful partner. To contribute 
to his happiness, is always to be her first 
earthly care. It is hers, not merely to amuse 
his leisure hours, but to be his intelligent com- 
■panion, friend, and counsellor ; his second 
self; his constant and substantial helper, both' 
as to the concerns of this life, and as to his 
eternal interests. She is to do him good, all 
the days of her life. And by so doing, to 
dwell in his heart. Is she a mother ? It is 
hers, in no small degree, to form the charac- 
ter of the next generation. Constantly with 
her children, having the chief care of them in 
their infancy, and early childhood, — the most 
susceptible, the forming period of life, — to 
her, m an important sense, are committed 
the character, and the destiny — of individu- 
als, and nations. Many of the most distin- 
guished, and of the most excellent men, this, 
or any country has produced, were indebted, 
under God, chiefly to the exertions of their 
mothers, during their early childhood. 

Thus viewed in her domestic relations, wo- 
man appears in a highly interesting light. 
So she does, when seen in other stations. 
See her taking an active part in various be- 
nevolent associations. There, she exerts an 
influence in the cause of humanity, and of 
religion, the most powerful, and beneficial. 
Like an angel of mercy on the wing, she 
performs her part with promptitude and 
compassion. 

705. the constancy of woman. 
Woman ! Blest partnei of our joys and woes ! 
Even in the darkest hoar of earthly ill, 
Untarnished yet, thy fond affection glows, 
Throbs with each pulse, and beats with every 
thrill ! [still, 

Bright o'er the wasted scene thou hoverest 
Angel of comfort to the failing soul; 
Undaunted by the tempest, wild and chill, 
That pours its restless and disastrous roll. [howl 
O'er all that blooms below, with sad and hollow 
When sorro' rends the hearf,when fe v'rish pain 
Wrings the hot drops of anguish from the brow, 
To soothe the soul, to cool the burning brain, 
O ! who so welcome and so prompt as thou ! 
The battle's hurried scene, and angry glow, — 
Tbe death-er.circled pillow of distress,— 
The lonely moments of secluded wo— 
Alike thy cars and constancy confess, [bless. 
*Ike thy pitying hand and fearless friendship I 



706. ALEXANDE I SELKIRK. 

I am monarch — of all 1 survey, 

My right there is none to dispute; 
From the centre— all round to the sea, 
I am lord of the fowl and the brut«. 
Oh solitude! where are the charms, 

That sages— have seen in thy face \ 
Better dwell— in the midst of alarms, 

Than reign— in this horrible place. 
I am out — of humanity's reach, 

I must finish my journey — alone; 
Never hear the sweet music of speech ; 

I start— at. the sound of my own. 
The beasts, that roam over the plain, 

My form, with indifference see : 
They are so unacquainted with man, 

Their tameness — is shocking to me. 
Society, friendship, and love, 

Divinely bestow'u upon man, 
Oh, had I the wings of a dove, 

Hoav soon would I taste you again 5 
My sorrows — I then might assuage, 

In the ways of religion and truth ; 
Might learn from the wisdom of age, 

And be cheer'd — by the sallies of youik. 
Religion ! what treasure untold, 

Resides in that heavenly word ! 
More precious — than silver or gold, 

Or all, that this earth can afford. 
But the sound of the church-going bell, 

These valleys, and rocks, never heard ; 
Ne'er sigh'd — at the sound of a knell, 

Or smil'd, when a sabbath appear'd. 
Ye winds, that have made me your zport, 

Convey to this desolate shore, 
Some cordial, endearing report, 

Of a land, I shall visit no more. 
My friends, do they now \hen send, 

A wish, or a thought a «e ? 
O tell me, I yet have a friend, 

Though a friend I am never to see. 
How fleet is a glance of the mind ! 

Compar'd with the speed of its flight, 
The tempest itself lags behind, 

And the swift-wing'd arrows of light; 
When I think of my own native land, 

In a moment, I seem to be there - , 
But, alas ! recollection at hand, 

Soon hurries me back to despair. 
But the sea-fowl — is gone to her nest, 

The beast is laid down in his lair ; 
Even here — is a season of rest, 

And I — to my cabin repair. 
There's mercy — in every place ; 

And mercy — encouraging thought ! 
Gives even affliction a grace, 

And reconciles man to his lot.— Zowptr. 

BATTLE. 

Now shield— with shield, with helmet,— helme* 
To armor — armor, lance to lance opposd;[clos'd, 
Host — against host, the shadowy squadrons drew; 
The sounding darts — in iron tempest flew. 
Victors, and vanquish'd, join promiscuous cries, 
And thrilling shouts— and dying groans arise : 
With streaming blood, the slipp'ry fields are dy'd» 
And slaughter'd heroes, swell the dreadful <id« 



296 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



707. Thk Sttif..oi of Lifk. Life — bears 
us on like the stream of a mighty river. Uur 
boat, al first glides down the narrow channel. 
through the playful tnurmurings of the little 
brook, and the windings of its grassy border. 
The trees shed their blossoms over our young 
heads, the (lowers, on the brink, seem to otfer 
themselves to our young hands ; we are hap- 
py in hope, and we grasp eagerly, at the 
beauties around us; but the stream hurries 
on, and still our hands are empty. 

Our course in youth, and manhood, k? along 
a wider, and deeper flood, and amid objects 
more striking, and magnificent. We are ani- 
mated by the moving picture of enjoyment, 
and industry, which passes before us; we 
are excited by some short-lived success, or 
depressed, and made miserable, by some 
equally short-lived disappointment. But our 
energy, and our dependence are both in vain. 
The stream bears us on, and our joys, and 
our griefs, are alike, left behind us ; we may 
oe shipwrecked, but we cannot anchor ; our 
voyage may be hastened, but it cannot be de- 
layed ; whether rough or smooth, the river 
hastens towards its home, till the roaring of 
the ocean is in our ears, and the tossing of 
the waves is beneath our keel : and the lands 
lessen from our eyes, and the floods are lifted 
up around us, and the earth loses sight of us, 
and we take our last leave of earth, and of its 
inhabitants ; and of our further voyage, there 
is no witness, but the Infinite and the Eternal. 

And do we still take so much anxious 
thought for future days, when the days which 
have gone by, have so strangely, and uniform- 
ly deceived us 1 Can we still so set our 
hearts on the creatures of God, when we find 
by sad experience, the Creator only is perma- 
nent 1 Or, shall we not rather lay aside every 
weight, and every sin which doth most easily 
beset us, and think of ourselves, henceforth, 
as wayfaring persons only, who have no 
abiding inheritance, but in the hope of a bet- 
ter world, and to whom even that world 
would be worse than hopeless, if it were not 
for our Lord Jesus Christ, and the interest we 
have obtained in his mercies. 

708. THE OLD HAT. 

! had a hat— it was not all a hat- 
Part of the brim was gone, — yet still, I wore 
It on, and people wondered, as I passed. 
Some, turned to gaze— others, just cast an eye, 
And soon withdrew it, as 'twere in contempt. 
But still, my hat, although so fashionless, 
In complement extern, had that within, 
Surpassing show— my head continued warm ; 
Being sheltered from the weather, spite of all 
The want (as has been said,) of brim. 
A change came o'er the color of my hat. 
That, which was black, grew brown, and then 

men stared 
With both their eyes (they stared with one before); 
The wonder now, was twofold— and it seemed 
Strange, that things so torn, and old, should still 

Be worn, by one who might but let that pass ! 

1 had my reasons, which might be revealed, 
But. for some counter reasons far more strong, 
Which tied my tongue to silence. Time passed on. 
Green spring, and flowery summer— autumn 

brown, 
And frosty winter came, — and went, and came — 
4* ' «ti!I. through all the ff asons of two jsara. 



In park, in city, yea, in routs an,l talis, [wB4 
The hat was worn, and borne. Then folk.; grew 
With curiosity, — and whispers rose. 
And questions passed about — how one so trim 
In coats, boots, pumps, gloves, trousers, touH 
His caput — in a covering so vile. [ensconce 

A change came o'er the nature of my hat — 
Grease-spots appeared— but still in silence, on 
I wore it — and then family, and friends 
Glared madly at each other. There was one, 
Who said— but hold — no matter what was sabt, 

A time may come, when I away — away— 

Not till the season's ripe, can I reveal 
Thoughts that do lie too deep for common niinda, 
Till then, the world shall not pluck out the heart 
Of this, my mystery. When I will — I will ! — 
The hat was now— greasy, and old, and torn— 
But torn— old — greasy — still I wore it on. 
A change came o'er the business of this hat. 
Women, and men, and children, scowled on met 
My company was shunned — I was alone! 
None would associate with such a hat — 
Friendship itself proved faithless, for a hat. » 
She, that I loved, within whose gentle breast 
I treasured up my heart, looked cold as death- 
Love's fires went out — extinguished — by a hat. 
Of those, that knew me best, some turned aside 
And scudded down dark lanes — one man did place 
His finger on his nose's side, and jeered — 
Others, in horrid mockery, laughed outiight; 
Yea, dogs, deceived by instinct's dubious ray, 
Fixing their swart glare on my ragged hat, 
Mistook nie for a beggar — and they barked. 
Thus, women, men, friends, strangers, lover 
One thought pervaded all— it was my hat. [dogs, 
A change — it was the last— came o'er this hat. 
For lo ! at length, the circling mart/is went rountl, 
The period was accomplished— «su*? <;ne day 
This tattered, brown, old, greaijy coverture, 
(Time had endeared its vileness,) was transferred 
To the possession of a wandering son — 
Of Israel's fated race — and friends once more 
Greeted my digits, with the wonted squeeze : 
Once more I went my way— along— along — 
And plucked no wondering gaze— the hand of 
With its annoying finger — men. and dogs, [scorn 
Once more grew pointless, jokeless, laughlesa, 

growlless : 
And last, not least of rescued blessings, love- 
Love smiled on me again, when I assumed 
A bran new beaver of the Andre mould; 
And then the laugh was mine, for then came omi 
The secret of this strangeness,— 'twas a bet. 
What are riches, empire, pow ; r, 
But larger means to gratify the will ? 
The steps on which we tread, to rise and reacfl 
Our wish ; and that obtain'd, down with the scaf- 
folding [served their end, 
Of sceptres, crowns, and thrones; they hav» 
And are, like lumber, to be left and scorn'd. 
Honor and virtue— are the boons we claim ; 
Nought gives a ^est to life, when they are ft»«i 
Nought else, can fan aright the holy flame : 
And, should they perish, every hope k dead 

The mm, who buiUs, ami lacks wnerewith to r« 
Provides a houie— from which to run »w*». 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



29? 



TOS. Character of Pitt. The secre- 
»ary — stood alone ; modern degeneracy — had 
not reached him. Original, and unaccom- 
modating, the features of his character — had 
the hardihood of antiquity. His august mind 
overawed majesty: and one of his sovereigns 
thought royalty — so impaired in his presence, 
that he conspired to remove him, in order to 
be relieved from his superiority. No state 
chicanery, no narrow system of vicious poli- 
tics, sank him to. the vulgar level of the great; 
brl overbearing, persuasive, and impractic- 
tfvAe, his object — was England, his ambition 
was fame. Without dividing, he destroyed 
pirty ; without corrupting, he made a venal 
age unanimous. 

France — sank beneath him. With one 
aand, he smote the house of Bourbon, and 
wielded, with the other, the democracy of 
England. The sight of his mind — was infi- 
nite; and his schemes were to affect, not 
England, and the present age only, but Eu- 
rope, and posterity. Wonderful were the 
means, by which these schemes were accom- 
plished , always seasonable, always adequate, 
the suggestions of an understanding, ani- 
mated by ardor, and enlightened by prophecy. 

The ordinary feelings, which rende.' life 
amiable, and indolent, were unknown to him. 
No domestic difficulty, no domestic weakness 
reached him; but, aloof from the sordid oc- 
currences of life, and unsullied by its inter- 
course, he came, occasionally, into our system, 
to counsel, and to decide. A character so 
exalted, so strenuous, so various, and so au- 
thoritative, astonished a corrupt age; and the 
Treasury trembled at the name of Pitt, thro' 
all her classes of venality. Corruption ima- 
gined, indeed, that she had found defects in 
this statesman; and talked much of the ruin 
of his victories; but the history of his country, 
and the calamities of the enemy, refuted her. 

Nor were his political abilities — his only 
talents: his eloquence — was an era — in the 
senate ; peculiar, and spontaneous, familiarly 
expressing gigantic sentiments, and instinc- 
tive wisdom; not like the torrent of Demos- 
thenes, or the splendid conflagration of Tully, 
it resembled sometimes the thunder, and 
sometimes the music of the spheres. He did 
not, like Murray, conduct the understanding 
through the painful, subtlety of argumenta- 
tion, nor was he, like Townsliend, forever on 
.•■the rack of exertion; but, rather, lightened 
upon the subject, and reached the point by 
flashings of the mind, which, like those of his 
eye, were felt, but could not be followed. 

Upon the whole, there was something in 
this man, that could create, subvert, or re- 
form; an understanding, a spirit, and an elo- 
quence, to summon mankind to society, or to 
break the bonds of slavery asunder, and to 
rule the wilderness of free minds with un- 
bounded authority — something that could 
establish, or overwhelm empires, and strike 
a blow in the world, which should resound 
throughout the universe. — Grattan. 

Reward him for the noble deed, just Heaven ! 
For this one action, guard him,and distinguishhim, 
With signal mercies and with great deliverances; 
Save him from wrong, adversity and shame : 
Let never-fading honor nourish round him, 
And consecrate his name ev'n to time's end: 
Let him know nothing but good on earth, 
And t verlasting blessedness hereafter. 
38 



709. L0CH1NVAB. 

O young Lochinvar is come out o( thu west, 
Thro' all the wide border, his steed was the best— 
And save his good broadsword, he weapon had 
He rode all unarmed, and he rode all aloue. [none, 
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, 
There never was knight, like the young Lochinvar. 

He staid not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone, 
He swam the Eske river, where ford there wat 
But ere he alighted, at Netherby gate, [none. 

The bride had consented, the gallant came lata. 
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, 
Was to wed the fair Ellen, of brave Lochinvar. 

So boldly he enter'd the Netherby Hall, [all, 

'Mong bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers and 
Thenspokethe bride'sfalherjiishandonhissword, 
For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word, 
' ; come ye in peace, here, or come ye in war, 
Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?" 
" I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied ; 
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide; 
And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, 
To tread but one measure, drink one cup of wine. 
There are maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far, 
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochin- 
var." 
The bride kiss'd the goblet, the knight took it up, 
He quaff'd off the wine, andhe threw down the cup. 
She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh,, 
With a smile on her lip, and a tear in her eye. 
He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bs.r; 
" Now tread we a measure,"said young Loclunvkr. 
So stately his form, and so lovely her face, 
That never a hall such a galliard did grace; 
While her motherdid fret, and her father d'n fume, 
And the bridegroom — stood dangling his bonnet 
and plume, [tcr by ,'ar, 

And the bride maidens whispered, " 'T were Let- 
To have match'd our fair cousin, with young 

Lochinvar." 
One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, 
Wher. they reach'd the hall door, and the charger 

stood near, 
So light to the croupe. ..ie fair lady he swung, 
So light to the saddle, before her he sprung, 
" She's won, we are gone, over bank, bush, and 
scaur, [young Lochinvar. 

They '11 have swift steeds that follow," quoth 
There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Nether- 
by clan, [they ran, 
Fosters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode ar/i 
There was racing, and chasing on CannobieLea, 
But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. 
So daring in love, and so gallant in war, [invar? 
Have you e'er heaTd of gallant like young Loch- 

The good merchant wrongs not the buyer 
in number, weight, or measure. These are 
the landmarks of all trading, which must not 
be removed : for such cosenage were worse 
than open felony. First, because they rob a 
man of his" purse, and never bid him stand. 
Secondly, because highway thieves defy, but 
these pretend, justice. Thirdly, as much aa 
lies in their power, they endeavor to make 
God accessory to their cosenage, deceiving, 
by pretending his weights. 



298 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



710, KUl.OGIUM ON KOSCIUSKO. 
8peech of Gen. W. H. Harrison, the ninth President, in the Con- 
gress of the I'niteil States, in the year 1S18, on a motion to adopt 
some public testimony of respect for the memory of General 
Tluldeus Kosciusko. 

The public papers— have announced an event, 
which is well calculated — to excite the sympathy 
—of every American bosom. Kosciusko, the 
martyr of Liberty, is no more ! We are inform- 
ed, that lie died at Soleure, in France, some time 
in October last. 

In tracing the events — of this great man's life, 
We find in him, that consistency of conduct, which 
:« the more to be admired, as it is so rarely to be 
3iet with. He was not, at one time, the friend of 
mankind, and at another, the instrument of their 
oppression ; but he preserved, throughout his 
whole career, those noble principles, which dis- 
tinguished him in its commencement ; which in- 
fluenced him. at an early period of his life, to 
leave his country — and his friends, and, in another 
hemisphere, to fight — for the rights— of humanity. 

Kosciusko was born, and educated, in Poland ; 
(of a noble, and distinguished family,) a country, 
where the distinctions in society are, perhaps, 
carried to greater lengths, than in any other. His 
Creator had, however, endowed him with a soul 
capable of rising above the narrow prejudices 
of a caste, and breaking the shackles, which a 
vicious education had imposed on his mind. 
When he was very young, he was informed, by 
the voice of Fame, that the standard of liberty 
had been erected in America — that an insulted 
and oppressed people — had determined to be free, 
or perish — in the attempt. His ardent and gen- 
erous mind — caught, with enthusiasm, the holy 
flame, and from that moment he became the dovo- 
ted soldier of liberty. His rank in the American 
army — afforded him no opportunity — greatly to 
distinguish himself. But he was remarkable — 
through his service, for all the qualities which 
adorn the human character. His heroic valor in 
the field, could only be equaled — by his modera- 
tion and affability, in the walks of private life. 
He was idolized by the soldiers — for his bravery, 
and beloved and respected by the officers, for the 
goodness of his heart, and the great qualities of 
his mind. 

Contributing greatly, by his exertions, to the es- 
tablishment of the independence of America, he 
might have remained, and shared the blessings it 
dispensed, under the protection of a chief, who 
loved and honored him, and in the bosom of a 
grateful and affectionate people. Kosciusko had, 
however, other views. It is not known, that un- 
til the period I am speaking of, he had formed any 
distinct idea — of what could, or indeed what ought 
to be done — for his own country. But in the Rev- 
olutionary war. he drank, deeply, of the princi- 
ples, which produced it! In his conversations 
with the intelligent men of our country, he acqui- 
red new views of the science of government, and 
of the rights of man. He had seen, too, that, to 
be free, it was only necessary that a nation should 
will it ; and to be happy, it was only necessary 
that a nation should.be free. And was it not pos- 
sible — to procure these blessings for Poland ! for 
Po.and, the country of his birth, which had a 
claim to all his efforts, to all his services ? 

That unhappy nation — groaned under a com- 
tf.ication of evils, which has scarcely a parallel 
IB history. The mass of people — were the abject 
•laves of the noblec ; the nobles, torn into factions, 
were alternately the instruments, and the victims, 
of their powerful and ambitious neighbors. By 
intrigue, corruption, and force, some of its fairest 
provinces had been separated from the republic, 
and the pconle. like beasts, transferred to foreign 
despots, who were again watching for a favora- 
ble moment — for a second dismemberment. To 
regenerate a people — thus debased, to obtain for a 
telru? -thus circumstanced, the blessings of lib- 



erty, and independence, was a work of at much 
difficulty, as danger, But. to a mind like Kosci- 
usko's, the difficulty, and danger of an enterprise 
— served as stimulants to the undertaking. 

The annals of those times — give us no detail- 
ed account of the progress of Kosciusko, in ac- 
complishing his great\vork, from the period of 
his return to America, to the adoption of the new 
constitution of Poland, in 1791. This interval, 
however, of apparent inaction, was most usefully 
employed to illumine the mental darkness, which 
enveloped his countrymen. To stimulate the ig 
norant and bigotted peasantry with the hope of 
future emancipation — to teach a proud, but gal- 
lant nobility, that true glory is only to be found, 
in the paths and duties of patriotism ; — interests the 
most opposed, prejudices — the most stubborn, and 
habits — the most inveterate, were reconciled, dis- 
sipated, and broken, by the ascendancy of his 
virtues and example. The storm, which he had 
foreseen, and for which he had been preparing, 
at length burst upon Poland. A feeble and un- 
popular government — bent before its fury, and 
submitted itself to the Russian yoke of the inva- 
der. But the nation disdained to follow its exam- 
ple ; in their extremity, every eye was turned on 
the hero, who had already fought their battles, the 
sage, who had enlightened them, and the patriot, 
who had set the example of personal sacrifices — 
to accomplish the emancipation of the people. 

Kosciusko — was unanimously appointed gener- 
alissimo of Poland, with unlimited powers, until 
the enemy should be driven from the country. On 
his virtue, the nation reposed with the utmost con- 
fidence; and it is some consolation to reflect, 
amidst the general depravity of mankind, that 
two instances, in the same age, have occurred, 
where powers of this kind were employed — sole- 
ly for the purposes for which they were given. It 
is not my inteution, sir. to follow the Polish chief 
— throughout the career of victory, which, for a 
considerable time, crowned his efforts. Guided 
by his talents, and led by his valor, his undiscip- 
lined, ill-armed militia — charged, with effect, the 
veteran Russian and Prussian; the mailed cui- 
rassiers of the great Frederic, for theirs* time, 
broke — and fll \ before the lighter, and more ap- 
propriate cav>, ry of Poland. Hope filled the 
breasts of the patriots. After a long night, the 
dawn of an apparently glorious day — broke upon 
Poland. But to the discerning eye of Kosciusko, 
the light which it shed— was of that sickly, and 
portentous appearance, indicating a storm more 
dreadful than that, which he had resisted. 

He prepared to meet it with firmness, but with 
means entirely inadequate. To the advantages 
of numbers, of tactics, of discipline, and inex- 
haustible resources, the combined despots had se- 
cured a faction — in the heart of Poland. And. if 
that country — can boast of having produced its 
Washington, it is disgraced also, by giving birth 
— to a second Arnold. The day at length came 
which was to decide the fate of a nation and a 
hero. Heaven, for w-ise purposes, permitted that 
it should be the last — of Polish liberty. It was 
decided, indeed, before the battle commenced. 
The traitor, Poniski, who covered, with a detach- 
ment, the advance of the Polish army, abandoned 
his position to the enemy, and retreated. 

Kosciusko— was astonished, but not dismayed 
The disposition of his army would have done 
honor to Hannibal. The succeeding conflict was 
terrible. When Ihe talents of the general — could 
no longer direct the mingled mass of combatants, 
the arm of the warrior was brought to the aid of 
his soldiers. He performed prodigies of valor. 
The fabled prowess of Ajax. in defending the 
Grecian ships — was realized by the Polish hero. 
Nor was he badly seconded by his troops. As 
long as his voice could guide, or his example fire 
their valor, they were irresistible. In this une- 
qual contest — Kosciusko — was o: g seen, and fi- 
nally — lost — to their view. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



299 



"Hope— for a season, bade the world— farewell, 
And Freedom shrieked as Kosciusko fell." 

He fell, covered with wounds, but still survived. 
A Cossack would have pierced his breast, when 
an officer interposed. " Suffer him to execute his 
purpose/' said the bleeding hero ; " I am the de- 
voted soldier of my country, and will not survive 
itr liberties." The name of Kosciusko— struck 
to the heart of the Tartar, like that of Marias— 
upon the Cimbrian warrior. The uplifted weap- 
on—dropped — from his hand. 

Kosciusko— was conveyed to the dungeons of 
Petersburg?) ; and, to the eternal disgrace of the 
Empress Catharine, she made him the object of 
her vengeance, when he could no longer be the ob- 
ject of her fears. Her more generous son — re- 
stored him to liberty. The remainder of his life — 
fcas been spent in virtuous retirement. "Whilst in 
this situation, in France, an anecdote is related of 
him, which strongly illustrates the command, 
which his virtues and his services had obtained — 
over the minds of his countrymen. 

In the late invasion of France, some Polish re- 
giments, in the service of Russia, passed through 
the village in which he lived. Some pillaging of 
the inhabitants brought Kosciusko from his cot- 
tage. "When /was a Polish soldier," said he, 
addressing the plunderers, " the property of the 
peaceful citizen was respected." "And who art 
thou," said an officer, "who addressest us with 
this tone of authority ?" " I am Kosciusko ." 
There was a magic in the word. It ran from 
corps to corps, from heart to heart. The march 
was suspended. They gathered round him, and 
gazed — with astonishment, and awe — upon the 
mighty ruin— he presented. "Could it, indeed, 
be their hero," whose fame was identified with 
that of their country? A thousand interesting re- 
flections burst upon their minds ; they remember- 
ed his patriotism, his devotion to liberty, his tri- 
umphs, and his glorious fall. Their iron hearts 
were softe'ried, and the tear of sensibility trickled 
down their weather-beaten, faces. 

We can easily conceive, sir, what would be 
the feeling of the hero himself in such a scene. 
His great heart must have heaved with emotion 
to And himself once more surrounded by the com- 

Etnions of his glory ; and that he would have 
een upon the point of saying to tiiem, 

u Behol 1 your general, come once more 
To lead you on to laurel'd victory, 
To fame, to freedom." 

The delusion could have lasted but for a mo- 
ment. He was himself, alas! a miserable crip- 
ple ; and, for them ! they were no longer the sol- 
diers of liberty, but the instruments of ambition 
and tyranny. Overwhelmed with grief at the re- 
flection, he would retire to his cottage, to mourn 
afresh over the miseries of his country. 

Such — was the man, sir, for whose memory I 
ask from an American congress, a slight tribute 
of respect. Not, sir, to perpetuate his fame, but 
our gratitude. His fame — will last as long as lib- 
erty — remains upon the earth ; as long as a vota- 
ry — offers incense upon her altar, the name of 
Kos.iusko — will be invoked. And if, by the com- 
mon consent of the world, a temple shall be erect- 
ed to those, who have rendered most service to 
mankind — if the statue of our great countryman, 
Washington, — shall occupy the place of the " Most 
Worthy," that of Kc-sciusco will be found by his 
side, and the wreath of laurel— will be entwined 
with the palm of virtue — to adorn his brow. 

Oh grief, beyond all other griefs, when fate 
First leaves the young heart — lone and desolate 
In the wide world, without that only tie 
For which it lov'd— • to live, or feared — to die; 
Lorn as the hung-up lute, that ne'er hath spoken 
Since the sad day — its master — chord was broken. 



713. THE VILLAGE vJl ACKSMTH. 

Under a spreading chestnut tree, 

The village smithy stands ; 
The smith, a mighty man is he, 

With large and smewy hands; 
And the muscles of his brawny arms, 

Are strong, as iron bands. 
His hair is crisp, and black, and long ; 

His face — is like the tan ; 
His brow — is wet with honest sweat ; 

He earns — whate'er he can, 
And looks the whole world in the face, 

For he owes not any man. 
Week out, week in, from morn till night, 

You can hear his bellows blow ; 
You hear him swing his heavy sledge, 

With measured beat and slow, 
Like a sexton, ringing the old kirk chime*, 

When the evening sun is low. 
And children, coming home from school, 

Look in at the open door ; 
They love to see a flaming forge, 
' And hear the bellows roar, 

And catch the burning sparks, that fly 
Like chaff— from a threshing-floor 
He goes, on Sunday, to the church, 

And sits among his boys ; 
He hears the parson — pray and preach, 

He hears his daughter's voice, 
Singing — in the village choir, 

And it makes his heart rejoice. 
It sounds to him, like her mother's voice, 

Singing — in Paradise ! 
He needs must think of her once more, 

How in the grave she lies ; 
And with his hard — rough hand he wipe* 

A tear from out his eyes. 
Toiling — rejoicing— sorrowing — 

Onward — through life he goes : 
Each morning — sees some task begin, 

Each evening — sees it close ; 
Something attempted— something done, 

Has earned a night's repose. 
Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, 

For the lesson thou hast taught ! 
Thus — at the flaming forge of Life, 
Our fortunes must be wrought; 
Thus, on its sounding anvil shaped, 
Each burning deed, and thought. 
There's a tear that falls when we part 

From a friend whose loss we shall mourn ; 
There's a tear that flows from the half-brok'nheart, 
When we think he may never return — oh, nevej . 
'Tis hard to be parted from those 

With whom we forever could dwell, 
But bitter, indeed, is the sorrow that flows [ever 
When, perhaps, we are saying farewell — for- 
There's a tear that brightens the eye 

Of the friend, when absence is o'er ! 
There's a tear that flows not for sorrow, but joy, 
When we meet to be parted no more— oh, never! 
Then all that in absence we dread 

Is past, and forgotten our pain ; 
For sweet is the tear we at such moments shed, 
Wheu we behold the lov'd object again— fcrev«fc 



300 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



712. TrRRKY, JiVGI.AND, AND THE UNITED 

Btatks — Kossuth. tVb man, aware of the value 
of hi* destiny, can tivesatisjifd, without freedom ; 
but ho. to whom (Jod has given freedom, has got 
even/t/iim: : if he has theVill to use his freedom 
for the devdopement of his mind and the per- 
fection of his happiness. This is the basis, upon 
•which your free country has become a paradise, — 
on which the eye and the heart may rest with joy, 
end which must strengthen the desire of every 
foreigner to become likewise free. During all my 
life, I had but one leading idea — liberty. It was 
tlio aim of my life, of my existence, to secure its 
blessing to my People; though I knew these 
blessings but instinctively. Now, I see how 
liberty ennobles men, and beautifies nature. How 
should I not, then, be doubly determined, in 
spite of all danger, of all difficulties, to endure, 
to act, to struggle, and, if need be, to die, that 
my People may become free ? My People, whom 
I can say, with deep felt satisfaction, that there 
is no people on earth, who better deserve to be free. 

But, besides the bliss of liberty, there is also a 
glory allotted to you ; and this is the proud 
position whi ;h you hold, not only to bear good 
will to those, who do not enjoy that happiness, 
but also, to offer the hand of friendship to their 
less fortunate brethren. This is indeed a great 
glory ; for liberty raises us to the dignity of men. 
Being in this position, you, in your national and 
individual capacity, are able to carry into prac- 
tical life, the divine doctrines of our Saviour : — 
" Thou shall love thy neighbor as thyself" It 
is only thus that I can explain the grand phe- 
nomena, that so many noble-minded men, united 
in the love and enjoyment of freedom, can all 
join in the expression of their sympathy for the 
principles of freedom, of which they choose to 
consider me as an humble representative. 

Without liberty, there can exist no lasting social 
order, no field for productive labor, no personal 
security, and no security for property. And if it 
is not the aim of society, to open the fields of 
productive labor, to grant security to persons and 
property, and thus, to develop man's mind, and 
ennoble his heart, — if this be not the aim of 
human society, then I do not know what aim it 
can have. How can mankind be contented, 
industrious, and happy, without freedom ? But 
it is also not without reason, that all classes are 
united in sympathy, in order that that liberty, 
which, under different forms of government, 
but similar institutions, is the bliss and the pride 
of the English race, in both hemispheres, should 
likewise be allotted to other nations, to enjoy it 
under a government that best suits their wishes 
and their wants. Not without reason is this 
sympathy, — not only because there is a moral 
solidarity in the destinies of nations, but also, 
because, where the productive power of a people, 
produces more than they can consume, such a 
country must have free intercourse, and an 
uninterrupted interchange of communication 
with the world, in order to secure the benefits of 
its labor, that, by the stoppage of one channel, 
there should arise a plethora, no less dangerous 
than consumption. Now, without the liberty of 
Europe, there is no such liberty of trade ; which 
mil despots fear, because the liberty of commerce 
is the great vehicle of political liberty. Freedom 
to trade — is only possible with freedom in Europe. 
It is fortunate, as well as glorious, when the 
material interests of a great nation are identical 
with the interest of the freedom of the world. 
This is a Promde.ntial Law. Even a single 
community can but enjoy welfare and security, 
when the interests of the whole country are in 
harmony with the interests of the individuals. 

The people of Hungary have a future, because 
they have vitality and deserve to live ; because 
tktir independence is necessary to the freedom of 



Eitrope. It is to the future of my country , 'hat 
I devote the activity I have regained, by my 
liberty from the bondage of Asia ; and this liberty 
is due. in the first place, to the noble feelings 
of the Sultan of Turkey ; who, in spite of the 
arrogant threats of Russia and Austria, haa 
protected my life, and that of my companions; 
and who, at last, raising himself by the magna- 
nimity of his inspirations, and his respect for 
the rights of humanity, above all threats, restored 
me to liberty, in the most dignified manner. 
While expressing my grateful acknowledgments 
to Turkey, I would a/50 return my deep felt 
thanks for the magnanimous interferences of the 
Government of Great Britain and that of the 
United States, in ' such a high and generous 
manner, supported by the public spirit of the 
People of both countries, and even sanctioned by 
the magnanimous resolution of Congress, in 
obtaining the liberation of myself and of my 
associates. It is, therefore, with the warmest 
feelings of a grateful heart, I propose the toast — 
" Turret— England— and the United States." 

7 12. Hungary's Great Struggles.— Kossuth. 
Three years ago, yonder house of Austria, which 
had chiefly me to thank, for not having been 
swept away by the revolution of VieDna, in 
Marcb, 1848, — having in return, answered by the 
most foid, most sacriligious conspiracy against 
the chartered rights, freedom, and national exist- 
ence of my native land, it became my share, 
being then a member of the Ministry, with undis- 
guised truth, to lay before the Parliament of 
Hungary, the immense danger of our bleeding 
country. Having made a sketch, which, however 
dreadful, could be but a faint shadow of the 
horrible reality, I proceeded to explain the terrible 
alternation, which our awful destiny left us, after 
a failure of all our attempts to avert the evil. 
Reluctant to present the neck of the realm to the 
deadly snake, aimed at its very life, and anxious 
to bear up against the horrors of fate, and 
manfully to fight the battle of legitimate "defence, 
—scarcely had I spoken the word, scarcely had I 
added words, that the defence would require 
200,000 men, and eighty millions of florins, when 
the spirit of freedom moved through the hall, 
and nearly 400 Representatives rose, as one man ; 
and, lifting up their right arms toward God, 
solemnly declared — " We grant it ; Freedom ! 
or deaths' 1 

Thus they spoke, and there they swore, in calm 
and silent majesty, awaiting what further word 
might fall from my lips. And for myself, it was 
my duty to speak, "but the grandeur of the 
moment, and the rushing waves of sentiment, 
benumbed my tongue. A burning tear fell from 
my eyes, a sigh of adoration to the Almighty 
Lord flushed my lips, and, bowing before the 
majesty of my people, I left the tribunal silently, 
speechless and mute. [ Here Kossuth paused a 
few moments, overpowered by his emotions, and 
then said,] Pardon me my emotions: the shadows 
of our martyrs passed before my eyes ; I heard 
the millions of my native land once more shout- 
ing— " Liberty ! or death." 

As I was then, so I am now: I thank you, 
gentlemen, for the generous sympathy, with 
which, in my undeserving person, you honored 
the bleeding, the oppressed, but not broken Hun- 
gary; and I thank you warmly for the ray of 
hope, which the sympathy of your people casts on 
the night of our fate. But the words fail me ; 
not only for want of a knowledge of jour lan- 
guage, but chiefly because my sentiments are 
deep, and fervent, and true. The tongue of man 
is powerful enough to render the ideas which 
the human intellect conceives ; but in the realm 
of true and deep sentiments, it is but a weak 
interpreter ; these are inexpressible. Vie the end- 
less glory of the Omnipote^ ! 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



301 



713. Istdtstrt AXi> E10Q.UENC.E. In the 
ancient republics of Greece and Rome, ora- 
tory — was a necessary branch of a finished 
education. A much smaller proportion of 
the citizens were educated, than among us ; 
but of these — a much larger number became 
orators. No man — could hope for distinction, 
or influence, and yet slight this art. The 
commanders of their armies — were orators, 
as well as soldiers, and ruled — as well by 
their rhetorical, as by their military skill. 
There was no trusting with them — as with 
us, to a natural facility, or the acquisition of 
en accidental fluency — by actual practice. 

But they served an apprenticeship to the 
art. They passed through a regular course 
of instruction in schools. They submitted to 
long, and laborious discipline. They ex- 
ercised themselves frequently, both before 
equals, and in the presence of teachers, who 
cr;ticised, reproved, rebuked, excited emula- 
tion, and left nothing undone, which art, and 
perseverance could accomplish. The great- 
est orators of antiquity, so far from being 
favored by natural tendencies, except indeed, 
in their high intellectual endowments, had to 
struggle against natural obstacles; and, in- 
stea(Tof growing up, spontaneously, to their 
unrivalled eminence, they forced themselves 
forward by the most discouraging, artificial 
process. 

Demosthenes — combatted an impediment 
in speech, an ungainliness of gesture, which 
at first — drove him from the forum in dis- 
grace. Cicero — failed, at first, through weak- 
ness of lungs, and an excessive vehemence of 
manner, which wearied the hearers, and de- 
feated his own purpose. These defects were 
conquered by study, and discipline. He ex- 
iled himself from home; and during his ab- 
sence, in various lands, passed not a day 
without a rhetorical exercise, seeking the 
masters who were most severe in criticism, 
as the surest means of leading him to the per- 
fection, at which he aimed. 

Such, too, was the education of their other 
great men. They were all, according to their 
ability and station, orators; orators, not by 
nature or accident, but by education, formed 
in a strict process of rhetorical training ; ad- 
mired and followed — even while Demosthe- 
nes and Cicero were living, and unknown 
now, only because it is not possible that any, 
but the first, should survive the ordeal of ages. 

The inference — to be drawn from these ob- 
servations is, that if so many of those, who 
received an accomplished education, became 
accomplished orators, because, to become so 
was one purpose of their study ; then, it is in 
the power of a much larger proportion among 
us, to form themselves into creditable and ac- 
curate speakers. The inference should not be 
denied, until proved false by experiment. 

Let this art be madean object of attention, 
and young men train themselves to it, faith- 
fully, and long; and if any of competent ta- 
lents and tolerable science be found, at last, 
incapable of expressing themselves in con- 
tinued, and connected discourse, so as to an- 
swer the ends of public speaking, then, and 
not till then, let it be said, that a peculiar 
talent, or natural aptitude — is requisite, the 
want of which — must render effort vain; 
then, and not till then, let us acquiesce in 
this indolent, and timorous notion, which 
contradicts the whole testimony of antiquity, 
and all the experience of the world. Wirt. 

2C 



714:. THE FREEMAN. 

He is the freeman, whom the truth makes free, 

And all are slaves, besides. There 's ntt a chain, 

That hellish foes, confederate for his harm, 

Can wind around him, hut he casts it off, 

Willi as much ease, as Samson, his green w.thca 

He looks abroad into the varied fie'd 

Of nature, and, though poor, perhaps, compared 

With those, whose mansions glitter in his sight, 

Calls the delightful scenery all his own. 

His — are the mountains, and the vaJleys his, 

And the resplendent rivers. His to enjoy, 

With a propriety, that none can feel, 

But who, with filial confidence inspired, 

Can lift to heaven an unpresumptuous eye, 

And smiling say — * My Father made them ah !* 

Are they not his, by a peculiar right, 

And, by an emphasis of interest, his, 

Whose eye — they fill with tears of holy joy, 

Whose heart, with praise, and whose exalted miiid, 

With worthy thoughts — of thai unwearied love, 

That plann'd, and built, and still upholds, a world, 

So clothed in beauty — for rebellious man? 

Yes : ye may fill your garners — ye that reap 

The loaded soil, and ye may waste much good, 

In senseless riot; but ye will not find, 

In feast, or in the chase, in song or danoe, 

A liberty like his, who, unimpeach'd 

Of usurpation, and to no man's wrong, 

Appropriates nature, as his Father's work, 

And has a richer use of yours than you. 

He is, indeed, a freeman. Free, by birth, 

Of no mean city; plann'd, or ere the hills 

Were built, the fountains open'd, or the sea, 

With all his roaring multitude of waves. 

His freedom — is the same in every state ; 

And no condition of this changeful life, 

So manifold in cares, whose every day 

Brings its own evil with it, makes it less: 

For he has wings, that neither sickness, pain, 

Nor penury, can cripple or confine. 

No nook so narrow, but he spreads them there, 

With ease, and is at large. The oppressor holds 

His body bound; but knows not what a range 

His spirit takes, unconscious of a chain; 

And that, to bind him, is a vain attempt, 

Whom God delights in, and in whom he dwell*. 

TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW. 

To-day man 's dress'd in gold and silver brvfJrt, 
Wrapt in a shroud before to-morrow-night: 
To-day he 's feeding on delicious food, 
To-morrow dead, unable to do good! 
To-day he 's nice, and scorns to feed on crurjibSy 
To-morrow he 's himself a dish for worms ; 
To-day he "s honor'd, and in vast esteem, 
To-morrow not a beggar values him ; 
To-day his house, tho' large, he thinks but small, 
To-morrow no command, no house at all ; 
To-day has forty servants at his gate, 
To-morrow scorn'd, not one of them will wait! 
To-day perfum'd, as sweet as any rose, 
To-morrow stinks in everybody'? .sose ; 
To-day he 's grand, majestic, all delight, 
Ghastful and pale before to-morrow night; 
True, as the Scripture says, " man's _. w ,? « «r*M»;* 
The present moment is the life of man. 



302 



READINGS AND REGIT ATiONS. 



71 5» CHARACTER OF BONAPARTE. 

He is fa len ! We may now pause— before that 
■plemliri prodigy, which lowered amongst us, like 
some ancient ruin, whose frown — terrified the 
glance its magnificence attracted. Grand, gloomy 
and peculiar, he sat upon the throne a sceptred 
Hermit, wrapt — in the solitude of his own ori- 
ginality. A mind, hold, independent, and decis- 
ive — a will, despotic in its dictates — an energy, 
thai distanced expedition, and a conscience— plia- 
ble to every touch of interest, marked the outline 
of this extraordinary character, — the most extra- 
ordinary, perhaps, that in the annals of this world, 
ever rose, or reigned, or fell. Flung into life, in 
the midst of a revolution, that quickened every 
energy of a people who acknowledge no superior, 
he commenced his course, a stranger hy birth, 
and a scholar by charity: With no friend, but 
bis sworu. and no fortune, but his talents, he 
rushed in the list — where rank, and wealth, and 
genius — had arrayed themselves, and competi- 
tion—fled from him. as from the glance of desti- 
ny. He knew no motive, but interest — he ac- 
knowledged no criterion, but success—he wor- 
shiped no God. but ambition, and, with an eastern 
devotion, he knelt— at the shrine of his idolatry. 
Subsidiary to this, there was no creed, that he 
did not profess, there was no opinion, that he did 
not promulgate. ; in the hope of. a dynasty, he up- 
held the crescent; for the sake of a divorce, he 
bowed before the cross : the orphan of St. Louis, 
he became the adopted child of the republic : and 
with a parricidal ingratitude, on the ruins — both 
of the throne, and tribune, he reared the throne 
of his despotism. A professed catholic, he im- 
prisoned the pope ; a pretended patriot, he impov- 
erished the country ; and in the name of Brutus, 
he grasped, without remorse, and wore, without 
shame, the diadem of the Cesars ! Through this 

Eantomime of policy, fortune played the clown to 
is caprices. At his touch, crowns crumbled, beg- 
gars reigned, systems vanished, the wildest theo- 
ries took the color of his whim, and all that was 
venerable, and all that was novel, changed pla- 
ces with the rapidity of a drama. Even appa- 
rent defeat — assumed the appearance of victory — 
his flight from Egypt confirmed his destiny — ruin 
itself — only elevated him to empire. But if his 
fortune was great, his genius was transcendent ; 
decision — flashed upon his councils; and it was 
the same to decide — and to perform. To inferior 
intellects — his combinations appeared perfectly 
impossible, his plans perfectly impracticable ; but, 
in his hands simplicity — marked their develop- 
ment, and success — vindicated their adoption. 
His person — partook of the character of his mind; 
if the one — never yielded in the cabinet, the oth- 
er — never bent in the field. Nature — had no ob- 
stacle, that he did not surmount, space — no op- 
position, that he did not spurn ; and whether amid 
Alpine rocks, Arabian sands, or Polar snows, he 
seemed proof against peril, and empowered with 
ubiquity! The whole continent — trembled — at 
beholding the audacity of his designs, and the 
miracle of their execution. Scepticism — bowed 
to the prodigies of his performance ; romance — 
assumed the air of history; nor was there aught 
too incredible for belief, or too fanciful — for ex- i 
peclation, when the world — saw a subaltern of ! 
Corsica — waving his imperial flag— over her most i 
ancient capitals. All the visions of antiquity — | 
became commonplaces in his contemplation:! 
kings were his people — nations were his outposts; 
and he disposed of com s, and crowns, and 
eamps, and churches, ami cabinets, as if they 
were tituhar dignitaries f the chess-board! 
Amid all these changes, he stood — iummutable — 
as adamant. 

It mattered little, whether in the field, or in the ; 
drawing-room — with the mob, or the levee — | 
W e«»-;."c" •' ucobin bonnet, or the iron crown — I 
touting a Braganza, o* espousing <i Hapsburg— I 



dictating peace on a raft to the czar of Russia. »« 
contemplating defeat— at the gallows of Leipsig— 
he was still the same military *despot ! 

In this wonderful combination, his affectations 
of literature must not be omitted. The jailer— 
of the press, he affected the patronage of letters; 
the prosenber of books, he encouraged philoso- 
phy — the persecutor of authors, and the murderer 
of printers, he yet pretended to the protection of 
learning! the assassin of Palm, the silencer of 
De Slael. and the denouncer of Kotzebue, he was 
the friend of David, the benefactor of JDe Lille, 
and sent his academic prize to the philosopher of 
England. Such a medley of contradictions, and 
at the same time such an individual consistency, 
were never united in the same character. A 
royali.M — a republican, and an emperor — a Mo- 
hammedan — a catholic and a patron of the syna- 
gogue — a subaltern and a sovereign — a traitor 
and a tyrant — a christian and an infidel — he was, 
through all his vicissitudes, the same stern, im- 
patient, inflexible original — the same mysterious, 
incomprehensible self— the man — without a mod- 
el, and without a shadow.— PAi^ips. 

716. The Beauties of Nature. Pause, 
for a while, ye travelers on the earth, to con- 
template the universe, in which you dwell, 
and the glory of him, who created it. What 
a scene of wonders — is here presented to 
your view ! If beheld with a religious eye, 
what a temple — for the worship of the Al- 
mighty ! The earth is spread out before you, 
reposing amidst the desolation of winter, or 
clad in the verdure of spring — smiling in 
the beauty of summer, or loaded with autuni 
nal fruit ; — opening to an endless variety of 
beings — the treasures of their Maker's good- 
ness, and ministering subsistence, and com- 
fort to every creature that lives. The heav- 
ens, also, declare the glory of the Lord. The 
sun cometh forth from his chambers — to scat 
ter the shades of night — inviting you to the 
renewal of your labors — adorning the face 
of nature — and, as he advances to his meri 
dian brightness, cherishing every herb, and 
every flower, that springetn from the bosom 
of the earth. Nor, when he retires again 
from your view, doth he leave the Creator 
without a witness. He only hides his own 
splendor, for a while, to disclose to you a 
more glorious scene — to show you the im- 
mensity of space, filled with worlds unnum- 
bered, that your imaginations may wander, 
without a limit, in the vast creation of God. 

What a field is here opened, for the exer- 
cise of every pious emotion ! and how irre- 
sistibly do such contemplations as these, 
awaken the sensibility of the soul ! *»ere, is 
infinite power — to impress you with awe- 
here is infinite wisdom — to fill you with ad- 
miration — here is infinite goodness — to call 
forth your gratitude, and love. The corres- 
pondence between these great objects, and 
the affections of the human heart, is estab- 
lished by nature itself; and they need only to 
be placed before us, that every religious feel- 
ing may be excited. — Moodie 

There is so great a fever in goodness, that 
the dissolution of it must cure it : novelty is 
only in request; and it is as dangerous to be 
aged in any kind of course, as it is virtuous 
to be constant in any undertaking. There 
is scarce truth enough alive to make soci- 
eties secure; but security eno tsh to make 
fellowships accursed; much upon this rid- 
dle runs the wisdom of the world. Thig 
news is old enough, yet it is every day's 
news. — Skakspeare. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



718. THUNDER STOBM OX THE ALPS. 

It is the hush of night ; and all between [clear, 
•Thy margin, and the mountains, dusk, yet 
Meliovv'd, and mingling, yet distinctly seen. 
Save darkened Jura, whose capped heights ap- 
Piecipitously steep; and drawing near, [pear 
Tnere breathes — a living fragrance from the 
•bore, [ear, 

Of flowers — yet fresh with childhood ; on the 
Drops the light drip of the suspended oar, [more. 
ftr chirps the grasshopper— one good-ught carol 

He is an evening reveller, who makes 
His life — an infancy, and sings his fill ! 
At intervals, some bird — from out the brakes — 
Starts into voice, a moment, then, is still. 
There seems a floating whisper, on the hill, 
But that is fancy, for the starlight dews 
All silently, their tears of love instill. 
Weeping themselves awry, till they infuse, 

Deep into Nature's breast, the spirit of her hues. 
The sky is changed ! and such a change ! O 
night, [strong! 

And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous 
Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light 
Of a dark eye in woman! Far along, 
From peak to peak, the rattling crags among, 
Leaps the live thunder! not from one lone cloud: 
But every mountain — now hath found a tongue, 
And Jura answers through her misty shroud, 

Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud ! 
And this is in the night : Most glorious night ! 
Thou wert not sent for slumber ! Let me be 
A sharer in thy fierce, and far delight, 
A portion of the tempest, and of thee ! 
How the lit lake shines ! a phosphoric sea ! 
And the big rain comes dancing to the earth ! 
And now again — 'tis black, and now, the glee 
Of the loud hills — shakes with its mountain- 
mirth, [birth. 

As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's 
Now, where the swift Rhone— cleaves his way 
between [parted 

Heights, which appear as lovers, who have 
In hate, whose mining depths — so intervene, 
That they can meet no more, though broken- 
hearted ! [thwarted, 
Though in their souls, which thus each other 
Love was the very root — of the fond rage, 
Which blighted their life's bloom, and then, 

departed! 
Itself expired, but leaving them an age [wage ! 

Of years, all winters ! war — within themselves to 
Now, where the quick Rhone thus hath cleft 
his way, [stand : 

The mightiest of the storms hath taken his 
For here, not one, but many, make their play, 
And fling their thunderbolts from hand to hand, 
Flashing and cast around ! of all the band, 
The brightest through these parted hills hath 
His lightnings, as if he did understand, [forked 
That in such gaps as desolation worked, 

There the hot shaft should blast whatever there- 
in I irked.— Byron. 

Earth smites around, with boundless bounty blest, 
And Heaven — beholds its image — in his breast. 



719. Maternal Affection. Woman's 
charms are certainly many and powerful. 
The expanding rose, just bursting into beau- 
ty, has an irresistible bewitchingness; the 
blooming bride, led triumphantly to the hy- 
meneal altar, awakens admiration and inter- 
est, and the blush of her cheek fills with de- 
light ; — but the charm of maternity, is more 
sublime than all these. 

Heaven has imprinted, in the mother's face, 
something beyond this world, something 
which claims kindred with the skies, — the 
angelic smile, the tender look, the wakin* 
watchful eye, which keeps its fond vigil over 
her slumbering babe. 

These are objects, which neither the pencil 
nor the chisel, can touch, which poetry fails 
to exalt, which the most eloquent tongue, in 
vain, would eulogize, and on which all de- 
scription becomes ineffective. In the heart of 
man lies this lovely picture ; it lives in his 
sympathies ; it reigns m his affections ; his eye 
looks around in vain for such another object 
on earth. 

Maternity, extatic sound ! so twined round 
our hearts, that they must cease to throb, err> 
we forget it ! 'tis our first love ; 'tis part rf 
our religion. Nature has set the mother up- 
on such a pinnacle, that our infant eyes, and 
arms, are first uplifted to it; we cling to it 
in manhood; we almost worship it in old age. 
He, who can enter an apartment, and behold 
the tender babe, feeding on its mother's beau- 
ty — nourished by the tide of life, which flows 
through the generous veins, without a pant- 
ing bosom and a grateful eye, is no man, but 
a monster. 

720. TO MARY IN HEAVEN. 

Thou lingering star, with less'ning ray, 

That lov'st to greet the early morn, 
Again, thou usher'st in the day, 

My Mary, from m.y soul was torn. 
O. Mary ! dear departed shade ! 

Where is thy place of blissful rest ? 
Seest thou thy lover, lowly laid? 

Hear'st thou the groans, that rend his breast ) 
That sacred hour — can I forget, 

Can I forget the hallow'd grove, 
Where, by the winding Ayr we met, 

To live one day of parting love ! 
Eternity — will not efface 

Those records dear, of transports past ; 
Thy image, at our last embrace I 

Ah ! little thought we, 'twas our last ! 
Ayr, gurgling, kissed his pebbled shore, 

O'erhun'g with wild woods' thick'ning greem j 
The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar, 

Twin'd amorous round the raptur'd scene. 
The flowers sprang — wanton to be prest, 

The birds sang love — on every spray, 
Till too, too soon, the glowing west 

Proclaim'd the speed of winged day. 
Still o'er these scenes my mem"ry wakes, 

And fondly broods, with miser care ! 
Time, but the impression deeper makes, 

As streams — their channels deeper wear. 
My Mary ! dear departed shade ! 

Where is thy place of blissful rest ? 
Seest thou thy lover lowly laid ? 

Hear'st thou the groans that rend his tres* • 
Ill-doers — are rJl-thinkers. 



304 



READINGS AND RECITATION?. 



731. RICHARD. 

Now — is the winter — of our discontent — 
Made glorious summer — by this sun of York ; 
And all the clouds, that lower'd upon our house, 
In the deep bosom— of the ocean — buried: 
Now, are our brows — bound with victorious 

wreaths ; 
Our I iiused arms— hung up for monuments : 
«t>ur stern alarums — chang'd to merry meetings, 
Our dreadful marches — to delightful measures : 
Grim-visag'd war — hath smoothed his wrinkled 

front ; 
And now— instead of mounting barbed steeds, 
To fright the souls— of fearful adversaries, 
He capers nimbly — in a lady's chamber, 
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. — 
But /—that am not shap'd— for sportive tricks, 
Nor made, to court an amorous looking-glass; 
!, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's ma- 
To strut before a wanton, ambling nymph ; [jesty, 
I, that am curtail 'd — of this fair proportion, 
Cheated of feature — by dissembling nature, 
Deform'd, unfinished, sent, before my time, 
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, 
And that— so lamely, and unfashionably, 
That dogs bark at me, as I halt by them ; 
Why I. in this weak — piping time of peace, 
Have no delight to pass away the time; 
Unless to spy my shadow — in the sun, 
And descant — on mine own deformity; 
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover, 
To entertain these fair — well spoken days, 
I am determined to prove — a villain, 
And hate the id!e pleasures of these days. 
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous, 
By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams, 
To set my brother Clarence, and the king, 
In deadly hate — the one, against the other: 
And if king Edward — be as true and just, 
As /am subtle, false, and treacherous, 
Tkisiay — should Clarence closely be mew'd up: 
About a prophecy, which says that G [G-eorge] 
Of Edward's heir — the murderer shall be. [comes. 
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul ; here Clarence 

722* THE REJECTED. 

Not have me ! Not love me ! Oh, what have I 
Sure, never was lover so strangely misled, [said 1 
Rejected ! and just when I hoped to be blessed ! 
You can't be in earnest ! It must be a jest. 
Remember— remember how often I've knelt, 
Explicitly telling you all that I felt, 
And talked about poison, in accents so wild, 
Ro very like torture, you started — and smiled. 
Not have me! Not love me ! Oh, what have I 
All natural nourishment did I not shun ?[ done ? 
My figure is wasted ; my spirits are lost; [ghost. 
And my eyes are deep sunk, like the eyes of a 
Remember, remember — ay, madam, you must — 
I onre \vaa exceedingly rtout, and robust ; 
I rode by your palfrey, I came at your call, 
And nightly went with you, to banquet and ball. 
Not have me ! Not love me ! Rejected ! Refused! 
Bure, never was lover so strangely ill-used! , 
Consider my presents — I don't mean to boast — 
But, madam, consider the money they cost! 



Remember you've worn them; and just can tit* 
To take all my trinkets, and not to take me 1 
Nay, don't throw them at me !— You'll break- 
do not start — [heart! 
I don't mean my gifts— but you will break mj 
Nor. have me! Not love me! Not go to the church! 
Sure, never was lover so left in the lurch ! 
My brain is distracted, my feelings are hurt; 
Oh, madam, don't tempt me to call you — a flirt. 
Remember my letters; my passion they told ; 
Yes, all sorts of letters, save letters of gold; 
The amount of my notes, too— the noteB that I 

penned, — 
Not bank notes— no, truly, I had none to send! 
Not have me ! Not love me ! And is it, then 
That opulent Age is the lover for you 1 [trut 
'Gainst rivalry's bloom I would strive — 'tis too 
To yield to the terrors of rivalry's crutch, [much 
Remember — remember I might call him out ; 
But, madam, you are not worth fighting about ; 
My sword shall be stainless, in blade, and in hilt, 
I thought you a jewel — I find you — a jilt. 

723. DESERTED WIFE. 

He comes not — I have watched the moon go down, 
But yet, he eomes not. — Once, it was not so. 
He thinks not, how these bitter tears do flow, 
The while he holds his riot in that town. 
Yet he will come, and chide, and I shall weep; 
And he will wake my infant from its sleep, 
To blend its feeble wailing with my tears. 
O ! how I love a mother's watch to keep, [cheere 
Over those sleeping eyes, that smile, which 
My heart, though sunk in sorrow, fix'd, and deep. 
I had a husband once, who loved me ; — now, 
He ever wears a frown upon his brow, 
And feeds his passion — on a wanton's lip, 
As bees, from laurel flowers, a poison sip ; 
But yet, I cannot hate — O ! there were hours, 
When I could hang, forever, on his eye, 
And time, who stole, with silent swiftness by, 
Strew'd, as he hurried on, his path with flowers 
I loved him then — he loved me too. My heart 
Still finds its fondness kindle, if he smile ; 
The memory of our loves— will ne'er depart; 
And though he often sting me with a dart, 
Venom'd. and barb'd, and waste upon the vile 
Caresses, which h's babe and mine should share; 
Though he should spurn me. I will calmly bear 
His madness,— and should sickness come, end 
Its paralyzing hand upon him. then, [lay 

I would, with kindness, all my wrongs repay, 
Until the penitent should weep, ana say, 
How injured, and how faithful I had been ! 

Discoveries. From time to time, a 
chosen hand, sometimes directed by chance, 
but more commonly guided by reflection, ex- 
periment and research, touches a spring-, till 
then unperceived; and through what seemed 
a blank and impenetrable wall, — the barrier 
to all further progress, — a door is thrown 
open into some before unexplored hall in the 
sacred temple of truth. The multitude rush- 
es in, and wonders that the portals ciuld 
have remained concealed so long. When a 
brilliant discovery or invention is proclaimed, 
men are astonished to think how long they 
had lived on its confines, without penetrating 
its nature. 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



•oa 



7&9. No Excellence without Labor. 
The education, rmral, and intellectual, of 
every individual, must be, chiefly, his own 
work. Rely upon it, that the ancients were 
right — Quisque suae fortunse faber — both in 
morals, and intellect, we give their final shape 
to our own characters, and thus become, em- 

Ehatically, the architects of our own fortunes. 
low else could it happen, that young men, 
who have had precisely the same opportuni- 
ties, should be continually presenting us, 
with such different results, and rushing to 
such opposite destinies 1 Difference of talent 
will not solve it, because that difference very 
often is in favor of the disappointed candidate. 
You shall see, issuing from the walls of the 
same college — nay, sometimes from the bosom 
of the same family — two young men, of whom 
the one — shall be admitted to be a genius of 
high order, the other, scarcely above the point 
of mediocrity ; yet you shall see the genius 
sinking and perishing in poverty, obscurity, 
and wretchedness : while, on the other hand, 
you shall observe the mediocre, plodding his 
slow, but sure way — up the hill of life, gain- 
ing steadfast footing at every step, and mount- 
ing, at length, to eminence and distinction, 
an ornament to his family, a blessing to his 
country. Now, whose work is this 1 Mani- 
festly their own. They are the architects of 
their respective fortunes. The best seminary 
of learning, that can open its portals to you, 
can do no more than to afford you the oppor- 
tunity of instruction : but it must depend, at 
last, on yourselves, whether you will be in- 
structed or not, or to what point you will 
push your instruction. And of this be as- 
sured — I speak, from observation, a certain 
truth: there is no excellence without great 
labor. It is the fiat of fate, from which no 
power of genius can absolve you. Genius, 
unexerted, is like the poor moth that flutters 
around a candle, till it scorches itself to death. 
If genius be desirable at all, it is only of that 
great and magnanimous kind, which, like the 
condor of South America, pitches from the 
summit of Chimborazo, above the clouds, 
and sustains itself, at pleasure, in that em- 
pyreal region, with an energy — rather invig- 
orated, than weakened, by the effort. It is 
this capacity for high and long-continued 
exertion — tins vigorous power of profound 
and searching investigation — this careering 
and wide-spreading comprehension of mind, 
and those long reaches of thought, that 

" — Pluc< bright honor from the pale-faced moon, 
Or dive into the bottom of the deep, 
Whpre fathom linecou i never touch the ground. 
And drag up drowned .-onor by the iock*— " 

This is the prowess, and these the hardy 
achievements, which are to enroll your names 
among the great men of the earth. — Wirt. 

723. LIFE IS SEAL. 

Tell me not— in mournful number*, 

Life— is but an empty dream ! 
For the soul is dead — that slumbers, 

And things are not — what they seem. 
Life is real ! Life is earnest ! 

And the grave— is not its goal : 
Dust thou art, to dust returnest, 

Was not written— of the soul. 
Wot enjoyment, and not sorrow, 

Is our destined end, and way, 
BRONSON. 20 2c2 



But to act, that each to-morrow 

Find us farther— than to-day. 

Art is long, and time is fleeting. 

And our hearts, though stout and braftv 
Still, like muffled drums, are beating 

Funeral marches — to the grave. 
In the world's broad field of battle, 

In the bivouac of life, 
Be not like dumb, driven cattle ! 

Be a hero — in the strife ! 
Trust not future, howe'er pleasant! 
Let the dead past — bury its dead' 
Act ! — act in the living present! 

Heart — within, and God — o'er head. 
Lives of great men — all remind us 
We can make our lives sublime, 
And, departing, leave behind us 

Footsteps — on the sands of time ; 
Footsteps, that perhaps another, 
Sailing o'er life's solemn main, 
A forlorn and shipwreek'd brother, 

Seeing, shall take heart again. 
Let us, then, be up and doing, 

With a heart for any fate; 
Still achieving, still pursuing, 
Learn to labor, and to wait. — Longfellow. 
724. Dignity of Human Nature. In 
forming our notions of human nature, we are 
very apt to make a comparison betwixt men, 
and animals, which are the only creatures, 
endowed with thought, that fall under our 
senses. Certainly, this comparison is very 
favorable to mankind y . On the one hand, we 
see a creature, whose thoughts — are not lim- 
ited, by the narrow bounds, either of place, 
or time, who carries his researches — into the 
most distant regions of this globe, and beyond 
this globe, to the planets, and heavenly bo- 
dies; looks backward — to consider the first 
origin of the human race ; casts his eyes for- 
ward — to see the influence of his actions up- 
on posterity, and the judgments which will 
be formed of his character — a thousand years 
hence : a creature, who traces causes and ef- 
fects — to great lengths and intricacy ; extracts 
g-eneral principles from particular appear- 
ances ; improves upon his discoveries, cor- 
rects his mistakes, and makes his very errors 
profitable. On the other hand, we are pre- 
sented with a creature — the very reverse c f 
this ; limited in its observations and reason 
ings — to a few sensible objects which sur- 
round it ; without curiosity, without foresight, 
blindly conducted by instinct, and arriving, 
in a very short time, at its utmost perfection, 
beyond which — it is never able to advance a 
single step. What a difference is there be- 
twixt these creatures! and how exalted a 
notion must we entertain of the former in 
comparison of the latter. — Hume. 

SURE REWARDS FOR VIRTUE. 

There is a morning to the tomb's long night 

A dawn of glory, a reward in heaven, 

He shall not gain, who never merited. 

If thou didst know the worth of one good deed 

In life's last hour, thou wouldst not bid me 3os« 

The power to benefit. If I but save 

A drowning fly, I shall not live in vain. 

I had rather see some women praised e xtraordi 
narily, than to see any of them suffer by detraction 



S06 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



~ir>. emmet's vindication-— in full. 

-V*y I.ircis— "What have I to say, why sentence of death should 
lot be be pronounced on me, according to law? I have nothing 
to say, tbat can alter your predetermination, nor that it will he- 
roine me to saT, will) any view to the mitigation of that sentence, 
which you are here to pronounce, and I muit abide by. But 1 have 
that to say, which interests me more than life, and which you have 
labored, (as was necessarily your office in the present circumstan- 
ces of this oppressed country,) to destroy. I have much to say, 
why my reputation should be rescued— from tho load of false ac- 
cusation and calumny, which has been heaped upon it. I do not 
imagine that, seated where you are, your minds can be so free from 
impurity, as to receive the least impression — from what I am going 
to uttei I have no hopes, that I can anchor my cliaracter— in the 
breait of a court, constituted and trammeled as this is— I only wish, 
and » the utmost I expea, that yiur lordships— may suffer >t to 
8oat down your memories, untainted by the foul br»ath of preju- 
dice, until it finds some more hospitable harbor— to snelter it from 
the storm, by which it is at present buffeted. Waa I only to suffer 
death, after being adjudged guilty by your tribunal— I should bow 
in silence, and meet the fate that awaits me, without a murmur— 
but the sentence of the law, which delivers my body to the execu- 
tioner, will, through the ministry of (hat law, labor, in its own 
vindication, to consign my character to obloquy— for there must be 
guilt somewhere: whether in the sentence of the court, or in the 
catastrophy, posterity must determine. A man, in my situation, 
my lords, has n„t ouly to encounter the difficulties of fortune, and 
the force of power over minds, which it has corrupted, or subju- 
gated, but, the difficulties of established prejudice.— The man dies, 
but his memory lives : that mine may not perish, that it may live, 
in the respect of my countrymen. I seize upon this opportunity— to 
■rr-iicate myself from some of the charges alleged against me. 
When my spirit shall be wafted to a mere friendly port ; when my 
shade shall have joined the bands of those martyred heroes, who 
have shed their blood on the scaffold, and in the field, in defence 
of their country, and of virtue, this is my hope; I wish that my 
memory and name— may animate those, who survive me, while I 
ook down, with complacency, on the destruction of that perfidi- 
«us government, which upholds its domination by blasphemy of 
the Most High— which displays its power over man, as over the 
beasts of the forest — which sets man upon his brother, and lifts his 
hand, in the name of God, against the throat of his fellow, who 
believes, or doubts, a little more, or a little less, than the govern- 
ment standard— a government, which is steeled to barbarity by the 
cries of the orphans, and the tears of the widows which it has 
made. 

[Here, Lord Norbury interrupted Mr. Emmet, saying, that the 
mean and wicked enthusiasts who felt as he did, were ?iot equal 
to the accomplishment of their wild designs. 

1 appeal to the immaculate God — I swear by the throne 

ot Heaven, before which I must shortly appear— by the blood of 
the murdered patriots, who have gone before me — that my conduct 
has been, through all this peril, and all my purposes, governed on- 
ly, by the convictions which I have uttered, and by no other view, 
than that of their cure, and the emancipation of my country— from 
the superinhuman oppression, underwhich she has so long,and too 
patiently travailed ; and that I confidently and assuredly hope, that, 
wild and chimerical as it may appear, there is still union and 
strength in Ireland to accomplish this noblest enterprise. Of this, 
I speak with the confidence of intimate knowledge, and with the 
consolation that appertains to that confidence. Think not, my 
lord, I say this for the pet*y gratification of giving you a transitory 
uneasiness ; a man, who never yet raised his voice to assert a lie, 
will not hazard his character with posterity, by asserting a falsehood 
on a subject, so important to his country, and on an occasion like 
ttiit. Yes, my .ords, a man who does not wish to have his epitaph 
written, until his country >s liberated, win not leave a weapon in 
the power of envy ; nor a pretence to impeach the probity, which 
he means to preserve, even in the grave— to which tyranny con- 
signs him. 

[Here, he was again interrupted, by the court.'] 

Again, I say, that what J have spoken, was not intended for your 
lordship, whose situation I commiserate — rather than envy— my 
expressions were for my countrymen : if there is a true Irish- 
man present, let mjr last words cheer him in the hour of his afiJic- 
Bon- 

[Here, he was eurain itUemipted. Lord Norbury said he did 
tot tit there to hear tr&mt.] 

I bave always understood it to be the duty of a judge, when a 
jrtooer has been emvic'ect, to ymxmnce the sentenceof the law ; 



I have, also, understood that judges, sometimes, think it their iutf 
to hear, with patience, and to speak with humanity; to eiixoit 
the victim of the laws, and to offer, with tender benietnty hit 
opinions of the motives, by which he was actuated in the crime, of 
which he had been adjudged guilty ; that a judge has thought A 
his duty so to have done, I have no doubt— but where is the boast 
ed freedom of your institutions, where is the vaunted impartiality, 
clemency, and mildness of your courts of justice? if an unfortunate 
prisc::2r, whom your policy, and not pure justice, is about to deliv- 
er into tlie hands of the executioner, is not suffered to explain hit 
motives, sincerely and truly, and to vindicate the principles, hy 
which he was actuated. 

My lords, it may be a part of the system of angry justice, to bow 
a man's mind by humiliation — to the purposed ignominy of the 
scaffold ; but worse to me than the purposed shame, or the sea*. 
fold's terrors, would be the shame of such foul and unfounded im- 
putations—as have been laid against me in this court : you, my 
lord, are a judge, I am the supposed culprit ; I am a man, you are 
a man, also; by a revolution of power, we might change plares, 
though we never could change characters ; if I stand at .is bar of 
th-> court, and dare not vindicate my character, what a farce • 
your justice? If I stand at this bar and dare not vindicate rny 
character, how dare you calumniate it ? Does the sentence of 
death, which your unhallowfed policy inflicts upon my body, aba 
condemn my tongue to silence, and my reputation to reproich ? 
Your executioner may abridge the period of my existence, but 
while I exist, I shall not forbear to vindicate my character, and 
motives— from your aspersions ; and, as a man to whom fame a 
dearer than life, I will make the last use of that life, in doing jus- 
tice to that reputation, which is to live after me, and which u the 
only legacy I can leave to those I honor and love, and for whom I 
am proud to perish. As men, my lord, we must appear on the 
great day, at one common tribual, and it will then remain— for the 
searcher of ali hearts— to show a collective universe, who was 
engaged in the most virtuous actions, or actuated by the purest mo. 
fives— my countiy's oppressors or — 

[Here, he was interrupted, and told to listen to the sentence if 
the law.] 

My lord, will a dying man be denied the legal privilege of excul- 
pating himself, in the eyes of the community, of an undeserved 
reproach, thrown upon him during his trial, by charging hini with 
ambition, and attempting to cast away, for a paltry consideration, 
the liberties of his country ? Why did your lordffliip insult me? or 
rather why insult justice, in demanding of me, why sentence of 
death should not be pronounced ? I know, my lord, that form pro- 
scribes that you should ask the question; the form also presume* 
a right of answering. This, no doubt, may be dispensed with— 
and so might the whole ceremony of the trial, since sentence was 
pronounced at the castle, before your jury was empanelled ; .your 
lordships are but the priests of the oracle, and I submit ; but I insist 
on the whole of the forms. 

[Here the court desired him to proceed.] 
I am charged with being an emissary of France ! An emissary 
of France ! And for what end ? It is alleged tliat I wished to sell 
the independence of my country ! And for what end ? Was this 
the object of my ambition ! And is this the mode by which a tn 
bunal of justice reconciles contradictions ? No, I am no emissary; 
and my ambition wa.i — to hold a place among the deliverers ot my 
country ; not in power, nor in profit, but in the glory of the achieve- 
ment ! Sell my country's independence to France! And for what/ 
Was it fora change of masters? No! But for ambition ! 0, my 
country, was it personal ambition that could influence me! Hid it 
been the soul of my actions, could I not, by my education and fortune, 
by tie rank and consideration of my family, have placed myself 
among the proudest of my oppressors ? My country was my idol ; 
to it I sacrificed every selfish, every endearing sentiment; and for 
it, I now offer up my life. God ! No, my lord ; I acted *» an 
Irishman, determined on delivering my country — from the roke 
of a foreign, and unre'enting tyranny, and from the more galling 
yoke of a domestic faction, which is its joint partner and peipe- 
trator, in the parricide, for the ignominy of existing with an exte 
rior of splendor, and of conscious depravity. It was the wish ot 
my heart to extricate my country, from this doubly riveted despufr 
ism. 

I wished to place her independence beyond the reach of any pow- 
er on earth ; I wished to exalt you to that proud station in the wot Id. 
Connection with France was indeed intended, but only as fai as 
mutual interest would sanction, or require. Were they to uaoam 
any authority, inconsistent with the purest independence, it would 
be the signal for their destruction ; we sought aid, and sre sought it 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



307 



■ we bad assurances we should obtain it; as auxiliaries, in war — 
and allies, in reace. 

Were the F-euch to come as invaders, or enemies, uninvited 
by the wishes of the people, I should oppose them to the utmost of 
my strength. Yes. my countrymen, I should advise you to meet 
them on the beach, with a sword in one hand, and a torch in the 
•4her; I would meet them with all the destructive fury of war; 
and I would animate my countrymen to immolate them in their 
beats, before they had contaminated the soil of my country. If they 
succeeded in landing, and if forced to retire before superior disci- 
pline, I would dispute every inch of ground, burn every blade of 
grass, and the last intrenchment of liberty should be my grave. 
What I could not do myself, if I should fall, I should leave as a 
hat cliarge to my countrymen to accomplish; because I should 
feci conscious that life, any more than death, is unprofitable, when 
a foreign nation holds my country in subjection. 

But it was not as an enemy — that the succors of France were to 
Jand : looked indeed for the assistance of France ; but I wished to 
prove to France, and to the world, that Irishmen — deserve to be as- 
EBted ! That they were indignant at slavery, and ready to assert 
*Jle independence and liberty of their country. 

I wished to procure for my country the guarantee, which Wash- 
ington procured for America. To procure an aid, which, by its 
example, would be as important as its valor ; disciplined, gallant, 
pregnant with science and experience ; who would perceive the 
good, and polish the rough points of our character; they would 
come to us as strangers, and leave us as friends, after sharing in our 
perils, and elevating our destiny. These were my objects, not to 
receive new talk-masters, but to expel old tyrants ; these were my 
views, and those only became Irishmen. It was for these ends I 
sought aid from France, because France, even as an enemy, could 
not be more implacable than the enemy already in the bosom of my 
country. 

[Here he was interrupted by the court.] 

I have been charged — with that importance in the effort; — to 
emancipate my country, as to be considered the icy-stone of the 
combination of Irishmen, or, as your lordship expressed it, " the 
life and blood of conspiracy." You do me honor over-much : You 
have given to the subaltern— all the credit of a superior. There 
ire men engaged in this conspiracy, who are not only superior to 
me, but even to your own conceptions of yourself, my lord ; men, 
before the splendor of whose genius and virtues, I should bow with 
respectful deference, and who would think themselves dishonored 
to be called — your friend — who would not disgrace themselves by 
siiaking your blood-stained hand — 

[Here he was interrupted.'] 

Wnat, my lord, shall you tell me, on the passage to ths* scaffold, 
which that tyranny, of which you are only the intermediary execu- 
tioner, has erected for my murder, — that I am accountable for all 
the blood that has, and will be shed, in this struggle of the oppres- 
sed—against the oppressor ?— shall you tell me this— and must I be 
so very a slave — as not to repel it ? 

I do not fear to approach the omnipotent Judge, to answer for 
the conduct of my whole life ; and am I to'be appalled and falsiied 
by a mere remnant of mortality here ? by you too, who, if it were 
possible to collect all the innocent blood that you have shed in your 
unhallowed miniifry, in one great reservoir, your lordship might 
swim in it. 

[Here the judge interfered,] 

Let no man dare, when I am dead, to charge me with dishonor ! 
let no man attaint my memory, by believing that I could have en- 
gaged in any cause but that of my country's liberty and indepen- 
dence ; or, that I could have become the pliant minion of power, 
in the oppression, or the miseries, of my countrymen. The pro- 
clamation of the provisional government speaks for our views ; no 
inference can be tortured from it, to countenance barbarity, or de- 
basement at home, or subjection, humiliation, or treacnery from 
abroad ; I would not have submitted to a foreign oppressor, for the 
aame reason that I would resist the foreign and domestic oppressor ; 
in the dignity cf freedom, I would have fought upon the threshold 
oJ my country and its enemy should enter— only by pissing over 
aay lifeless cor se. Am I, who lived but for my country and wno 
Dave subjected myself to the dangers of the jeaious and watchful 
oppressor, and the bondage of the grave, only to give my country- 
men their rights, and my country her independence, and am I Ki be 
Joaded with calumny, and not suffered to resent or repel it— No 
God forbid ! 

If the spirts— of the illustrious dead— participate in the concerns, 
Bad eares of"Jn<se, who are dear to them— in this transitory life— O 
«*•£■ dear— ind venerated shade— of my departed father, look down 
with scrutiny, upon the conduct of your suffering son ; aad see if I 



have, even for a moment, deviated from those princip es uf mo 
ralityand patriotism, which it was your care to instill iao my 
youthful mind ; and for which I am now to offer up my life. 

My lords, you are impatient for the sacrifice— the blood, which 
you seek, is not congealed by the artificial terrors which surround 
your victim ; it circulates warmly and unruffled, through the chan- 
nels, which God created for noble purposes, but whicli yen are beat 

to destroy, for purposes so grievous, that they cry to heaven 

Be yet patient ! I have but a few words more to say.— I an. goint 
to my cold — and silent grave : my lamp of life — :s oearly extia 
guished ; my race is ruu : the grave opens to recei e me, and 
sink into its bosom ! I have but one request to ask at u y deparhn* 
from this world, — it is ths charity of its silence ! — Let no man wri* 
my epitaph : for, as no man, who knows my motives, dare now 
vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse them. Le 
them, and me, repose in obscurity, and pej.ee, zx\d my tomb remais 
uninscribed, until other times, and other men, can do justice to cr« 
character : when my country takes her place among the nations ca 
the earth, tlien — and not till then — let my epitaph be writtea.— 4 
have done. 

726. LUCY. 
Three years she grew, in sun, and shower, 
Then, Nature said, " a lovelier flower, 

On earth, was never sown ; 
This child I. to myself, will take ; 
She shall be mine, and I will make — 
I A lady of my own. 

Myself will, to my darling, be 

Both lav/, and impulse : and with me, 

The girl, on rook and plain, 
In earth, and heaven, in glade, and bower, 
Shall feel an overseeing power, 

To kindle, and restrain. 
She shall be sportive, as the fawn, 
That, wild with glee, across the lawn, 

Or up the mountain, springs ; 
And hers, shall be the breathing balm, 
And hers, the silence, and the calm — 

Of mute, insensate things. 
The floating clouds — their state shall lend 
To her ; for her — the willow bend ; 

Nor. shall she fail to see, 
Even in the motions of the storm, 
Grace, that shall mould the maiden's form, 

By silent sympathy. 
The stars of midnight — shall be dear 
To her ; and she shall lean her ear, 

In many a secret place, 
Where rivulets dance their wayward round ; 
And beauty, born of murmuring sound, 

Shall pass into her face. 
And vital feelings of delight — 
Shall rear her form — to stately height, 

Her virgin bosom swell ; 
Such thoughts, to Lucy, I will give. 
While she, and I, together live. 

Here, in this happy dell." 
Thus Nature spake. The work was done- 
How soon my Lucy's race was run ! 

She died, — and left to me 
This heath, this calm, and quiet scene; 
The memory — of what has been, 

And never more — will be. — Wordsworth. 
When thou doest good, do it because it is 
good; not because men esteem it so. When 
thou avoidest evil, flee from it because it is 
evil; not because men speak against it. Be 
honest for the Love of honesty, and thou shalt 
be uniformly so. He that doeth it without 
principle — is wavering. 



&)8 



READINGS AN! RECITATIONS. 



7*7. Cicbko's Oration against Veti- 
m.s. I ask dow, Verres, what have you to 
advance against this charge 1 Will you pre- 
tend to deny it] Will you pretend that any- 
thing false, that even anything aggravated-— 
is alleged against you! Had any prince, or 
any state, committed the same outrage against 
the privileges of Roman citizens, should we 
not think we had sufficier*. reason — for de- 
claring immediate war against them ! What 
punishment, then, oughtlo be inflicted on a 
tyrannical and wicked prstor, who dared, at 
no greater distance than Sicily, within sight 
of the Italian coast, to put to the infamous 
death of crucifixion, that unfortunate and 
innocent citizen, Publius Gavius Cosanus, 
only for liis having asserted his privilege of 
citizenship, and declared his intention of ap- 
pealing to the justice of his country, against 
a cruel oppressor, who had unjustly confined 
him in prison, at Syracuse, whence he had 
just made his escape ! The unhappy man, ar- 
rested as he was going to embark tor his na- 
tive country, is brought before the wicked 
praetor. With eyes darting fury, and a coun- 
tenance distorted with cruelty, he orders the 
helpless victim of his rage to be stripped, and 
rods to be brought ; accusing him, out with- 
out the least shadow of evidence, or even of 
suspicion, of having come to Sicily as a spy. 
It was in vain, that the unhappy man cried 
out, "lama Roman citizen, 1 have served 
under Lucius Pretius, who is now at Panor- 
mus, and will attest my innocence." The 
bloodthirsty prstor, deaf to all that he could 
urge in hie own defence, ordered the infa- 
mous punishment to be inflicted. Thus, fath- 
ers, was an innocent Roman citizen public- 
ly mangled, with scourging; whilst the only 
words he uttered amidst his cruel sufferings 
were, " I am a Roman citizen !" With these 
he hoped to defend himself from violence, 
and infamy. But of so little service was this 

f)rivilege to him, that while he was asserting 
us citizenship, the order was given for his 
execution, — for his execution upon the cross ! 
liberty ! sound, once delightful to eve- 
ry Roman ear ! sacred privilege of Ro- 
man citizenship! once — ,?acred,now — tram- 
pled upon! But what then! is it come to 
ihisl Shall an inferior magistrate, a gover- 
nor, who holds his power of the Roman peo- 
ple, in a Roman province, within sight of It- 
aly, bind, scourge, torture with fire and red- 
hot plates of iron, and at last put to the infa- 
mous death of the cross, a Roman citizen 1 
Shall neither the cries of innocence, expiring 
in agony, nor the tears of pitying spectators, 
nor the majesty of the Roman common- 
wealth, nor the justice of his country, re- 
strain the licentious and wanton cruelty of 
•t monster, who, in confidence of his riches, 
«r i kes at the root of liberty and sets mankind 
at defiance 1 

VANITY. 

O, vanity, 

How are thy painted beauties doted on, 
By light and empty idiots! how pursued 
With open and extended appetite! 
How they do sweat and run themselves from breath, 
Raised on their toes, to catch thy airy forms, 
Still turning giddy, till they reel like drunkards, 
That buy the merry madness of one hour 
With the long irksomenessof following time. 
Time flies and never diea. 



728. MOLOcn's oration fjr war. 
My sentence — is for open war : of wiies. 
More unexpert, I boast not ; them, let those 
Contrive, who need ; or, when they need ; not mn»S 
For while they sit contriving, shall the rest, 
Millions, that stand in arm*, and longing, wail 
The signal to ascend, sit lingering here, 
Heaven's fugitives, and for their dwelling-place, 
Accept this dark, opprobrious den of shame, 
The prison of his tyranny, who reigns 
By our delay ! No, — let us rather choose, 
Armed with hell-flames, and fun.-, all at one., 
O'er heaven's high towers, to force resistless way, 
Turning our tortures, into horrid arms — 
Againsi the torturer; when, to meet the noise 
Of his almighty engine, he shall hear 
Infernal thunder; and, for lightning, see 
Black fire and horror-shot, with equal rage, 
Among his angels: and his throne, itself, 
Mixed with Tartarean sulphur, and strange fire, 
His own invented torments. — But, perhaps. 
The way seems difficult, and steep to scale, 
With upright wing, against a higher foe. 
Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench, 
Of that forgetful lake — benumb not still, 
That in our proper motiofl, we ascend 
Up to our native seat : descent, and fall, 
To us — is adverse. Who, but felt of late, 
Wlten the fierce foe — hung on our broken rear, 
Insulting, and pursued us, through the deep, 
With what compulsion, and laborious fight, 
"We sunk thus low ! — The accent is easy then : 
The event is feared : — should we again provoke 
Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find, 
To our destruction : if there be, in hell, 
Fear to be worse destroyed. — What can be worse, 
Than to dwell here, driven out from bliss.condemn'd 
In this abhorred deep — to utter wo ; 
Where pain of unextinguishable fire 
Must exercise us, without hope of end, 
The vassals of his anger, when the scourge 
Inexorable, and the torturing hour 
Call us to penance ? — Mere destroyed than thus, 
We should be quite abolished, and expire. 
What fear we then? — What doubt we to incense 
His utmost ire ! which, to his height, enraged, 
Will either quite consume us, or reduce 
To nothing this essential ; happier far. 
Than miserable to have eternal being ; 
Or. if our substance be indeed divine, 
And cannot cease .o be, we are. at worst. 
On this side nothing ; and, by proof, we feel 
Our power sufficient, — to disturb his heaven. 
And, with perpetual inroad, to alarm, 
Though inaccessible, his fatal throne ; 
Which, if not victory, is yet revenge.— Miston 

THIS WORLD. 

11 T is a sad world." said one, •' a world of woe, 
Where sorrow — reigns supreme." Yet from my 
The all-sustaining hope did not depart ; [hear*. 

But, to its impulse true. I answered — "No ! 
The world hath much of good — nor seldom, joy 

Over our spirits — broods with radiant wing ; 

Gladness from grief, and life from death may 
Treasures are oursthe graveeannot destroy, ,-[springj 
Then chide not harshly — our instructress stern. 
Whose solemn lessons — wisdom bids us lcara * 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



309 



789. Influents of the Wise and Goon. 
The relations between man, and man, cease 
not with life. They leave behind them their 
memory, their example, and the effects of 
their actions. Their influence still abides with 
in. Their names, and characters dwell in 
our thoughts, and hearts — we live, and com- 
mune with them, in their writings. We en- 
ioy tie benefit of their labors — our institu- 
tions have been founded by them — we are 
surrounded by the works of the dead. Our 
knowledge, and our arts are the fruit of their 
toil — our minds have been formed by their 
instructions — we are most intimately con- 
nected with them, by a thousand depend- 
encies. 

Those, whom we have loved in life, are still 
objects of our deepest, and holiest affections. 
Their power over us remains. They are with 
us in our solitary walks; and their voices 
speak to our hearts in the silence of midnight. 
Their image is impressed upon our dearest 
recollections, and our most sacred hopes. 
They form an essential part of our treasure 
laid up in heaven For, above all, we are 
separated from them, but for a little time. 
We are soon to be united with them. If we 
follow in the path of those we have loved, we, 
too, shall soon join the innumerable company 
of " the spirits of just men made perfect." 
Our affections, and our hopes, are not buried 
in the dust, to which we commit the poor re- 
mains of mortality. The blessed retain their 
remembrance, and their love for us in heaven : 
and we will cherish our remembrance, and 
our love for them, while on earth. 

Creatures of imitation, and sympathy as 
we are, we look around us for support, and 
countenance, even in our virtues. We recur 
for them, most securely, to the examples of 
the dead. There is a degree of insecurity, 
and uncertainty about living worth. The 
stamp has not yet been put upon it, which 
precludes all change, and seals it up as a just 
object of admiration for future times. There 
is no greater service, which a man of com- 
manding intellect can render his fellow crea- 
tures, than that of leaving behind him an un- 
spotted example. 

If he do not confer upon them this benefit; 
if he leave a character, dark with vices in the 
sight of God, but dazzling qualities in the 
view of men ; it may be that all his other ser- 
vices had better have been forborne, and he 
had passed inactive, and unnoticed through 
life. It is a dictate of wisdom, therefore, as 
well as feeling, when a man, eminent for his 
virtues and talents, has been taken away, to 
collect the riches of his goodness, and add 
them to the treasury of human improvement. 
The true christian — liveth not for himself; 
and it is thus, in one respect, that he dieth 
not for himself. — Norton. 

730. HUMAN LIFE. 

I walk'd the fields — at morning's prime, 
The grass — was ripe for mowing : 

The sky-lark — sung his matin chime, 
And all — was brightly glowing. 

u And thus," I cried, the " ardent boy, 

Hie pulse, with rapture beating, 
Deems life's inheritance — his joy — 

The future— proudly greeting." 
I wandered forth at noon : — alas I 

Oa eanh's materal bosom 



The scythe — had left the withering grasi, 
And stretch'd the fading blossom 

And thus, I thought with ma:jy a sigh, 
The hopes — we fondly cherish. 

Like flowers, which blossom, but to dit, 
Seem only born — to perish. 

Once more, at eve, vb road I stray'd, 
Through lonely hay-fields musmg; 

While every breeze, that round me ploy'd, 
Rich fragrance — was diffusing. 

The perfumed air, the hush of eve, 
To purer hopes appearing, 

O'er thoughts perchance loo prone to gricva* 
Scatter'd the balm of healing. 

For thus " the actions of the just," 
When Memory hath enshrined them, 

E'en from the dark and silent dust 

Their odor leaves behind there. — BarSsn. 

731. Public Faith. To expatiate on the 
value of public faith — may pass — with some 
men, for declamation — to such men, I have 
nothing to say. To others, I will urge — can 
any circumstance mark upon a people, more 
turpitude and debasement 1 Can anything 
tend more to make men think themselves 
mean, or degrade, to a lower point, their esti- 
mation of virtue, and their standard of action '! 

It would not merely demoralize mankind, 
it tends to break all the ligaments of society, 
to dissolve that mysterious charm which at- 
tracts individuals to the nation, and to inspire, 
in its stead, a repulsive ser'^e of shame and 
disgust. 

What is patriotism ! Is it a narrow affec- 
tion for the spot, where a man was born '.' 
Are the very clods, where we tread, entitled 
to this ardent preference, because they are 
greener 1 No, sir, this is not the character of 
the virtue, and it soars higher for its object. 
It is an extended self-love, mingling with all 
the enjoyments of life, and twisting itself with 
the minutest filaments of the heart. 

It is thus — we obey the laws of society, be- 
cause they are the laws of virtue. In their 
authority 'we see, not the array of force and 
terror, but the venerable image of our coun- 
try's honor. Every good citizen makes that 
honor his own, and cherishes it, not only as 
precious, but as sacred. He is willing to risk 
his life in its defence, and is conscious, that 
he gains protection while he gives it. For, 
what rights of a citizen will be deemed in- 
violable, when a state renounces the princi- 
ples, that constitute their security ? 

Or, if this life should not be invaded, what 
would its enjoyments be in a country, odious 
in the eyes of strangers, and dishonored in 
his own ! Could he look — with affection and 
veneration, to such a country as his parent 1 
The sense of having one — would die within 
him ; he would blush for his patriotism, if he 
retained any, and justly, for it would be a vice. 
He would be a banished man — in his native 
land. — Fisher Ames. 

If thou well observe 
The rule of not too much, by temperance taught, 
In what thou eat'st and drink'st.seeking from thenre 
Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight, 
Till many years over thy head return : 
So mayst thou live, till, like ripe fruit, thou drop 
Into thy mother's lap. to be with e£.se 
Gather'd, not harshly pluck'd, in death mature. 



310 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



733. roini(.4i. CoRnuPTiosr. We are 
apt to treat die idea of our own corruptibili- 
ty, as utterly visionary, and to ask, with a 
grave affectation of dignity — what ! do you 
think a member of congress can be corrup- 
ted 1 Sir, I speak, what I have long and de- 
liberately considered, when I say, that since 
man was created, there never has been a po- 
litical body on the face of the earth, that 
would not be corrupted under the same cir- 
cumstances. Corruption steals upon us, in a 
thousand insidious forms, when we are least 
aware of its approaches. 

Of all the forms, in which it can present it- 
self, the bribery of office — is the most dan- 
gerous, because it assumes the guise of patri- 
otism — to accomplish its fatal sorcery. We 
are often asked, where is the evidence of cor- 
ruption'.' Have you seen it! Sir, do you 
expect to see it? You might, as well, expect 
to see the embodied forms of pestilence, and 
famine — stalking before you, as to see the la- 
tent operations of this insidious power. We 
may walk amidst it, and breathe its contagion, 
without being conscious of its presence. 

All experience teaches us — the irresistible 
power of temptation, when vice — assumes the 
^orm of virtue. The great enemy of man- 
kind — could not have consummated his in- 
fernal scheme, for the seduction of our first 
parents, but for the disguise, in which he 
presented himself. Had he appeared as the 
devil, in his proper form : had the spear of 
Ithuriel — disclosed the naked deformity of 
the fiend of hell, the inhabitants of paradise 
would have shrunk with horror from his 
presence. 

But he came — as the insinuating serpent, 
and presented a beautiful apple, the most de- 
licious fruit in all the- garden. He told his 
glowing story to the unsuspecting victim of 
nis guile. " It can be no crime — to taste ol 
this delightful fruit. It will disclose to you 
the knowledge of good, and evil. It will 
raise you to an equality with the angels." 

Such, sir, was the process; and, in this 
simple, but impressive narrative, we have the 
most beautiful and philosophical illustration 
of the frailty of man, and the power of temp- 
tation, that could possibly be exhibited. Mr. 
Chairman, I have been forcibly struck, with 
the similarity, between our present situation, 
and that of Eve, after it was announced, that 
Satan was on the borders of paradise. We, 
too, have been warned, that the enemy is on 
our borders. 

But God forbid that the similitude should be 
carried any farther. Eve, conscious of her 
innocence, sought temptation and defied it. 
The catastrophe is too fatally known to us 
all. She went, " with the blessings of heaven 
en her head, and its purity in her heart," 
guarded by the ministry of angels — she re- 
turned covered with shame, under the heavy 
denunciation of heaven's everlasting curse. 

Sir, it is innocence — that temptation con- 
quers. If our first parent, pure as she came 
from the hand of God, was overcome by the 
seductive, power, let us not imitate her fatal 
rashness, seeking temptation, when it is in 
our power to avoid it. Let us not vainly 
confide in our own infallibility. We are lia- 
ble to be corrupted. To an ambitious man, 
an honorable office will appear as beautiful 
»nd fascinating — as the apple of paradise. 

I admit, sir, that ambition is a passion, at 
»nce the most powerful and the most useful. 



Without it, human affixirs would become a 
I mere stagnant pool. By means of his pat- 
ronage, the president addresses himselr in 
the most irresistible manner, to this the no- 
blest and strongest of our passions. All that 
the imagination can desire — honor, powe/, 
wealth, ease, are held out as the temptation- 
Man was not made to resist such temptation. 
It is impossible to conceive, — Satan himself 
could not devise, a system, which would more 
infallibly introduce corruption and death into 
our political Eden. Sir, the angels fell froiL- 
heaven with less temptation. — McBuffiu 

733. CATO'S SOLILOQUY ON IMMORTALITY. 

It must be so — Plato, thou reasonest well! 
Else, whence this pleasing hope, this fond dciire, 
This longing— after immortality ! 
Or, whence — this secret dread, and inward honor, 
Of falling — into nought? Why— shrinks the soul- 
Back on herself, and startles — at destruction? — 
'Tis the Divinity — that stirs within us: 
'Tis Heaven itself, that points out — a h?reafter, 
And intimates — Eternity — to man. 
Eternity !— thou pleasing — dreaful thought! 
Through what variety — of untried being, [pass! 
Through what new scenes, and changes, must w» 
The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me 
But shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it.— 
Here — will I hold. If there's a Power above us, 
(And that there is, all Nature cries aloud — 
Through all her ivorks,) He must delight in virtues 
And that, which He delights in must be happy. 
But when ? or where ? This world — was mad« 

for Cesar? 
I 'm weary of conjectures — this — must end them.- 

[ Laying his hand on his sword. 
Thu — I am doubly armed. My death — and lift 
My bane — and antideT^, are both before me. 
This — in a moment, brings me to an end j 
But this — informs me — I shall never die. 
The soul, secured in her existence, similes — 
At the drawn dagger, and defies its point. — 
The stars — shall fade away, the sun himself 
Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years . 
But tfiou shalt flourish — in immortal youth, 
Unhurt — amidst the war of elements, 
The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds. 

Ipleness — is the badge of gentry, the 
bane of body and mind, the nurse of naugh- 
tiness, the step-mother of discipline, the chief 
author of all mischief, one of the seven dead- 
ly sins, the cushion upon which the devil 
chiefly reposes, and a great cause not only of 
melancholy, but of many other diseases : for 
the mind is naturally active; and if it be not 
occupied about some honest business, it rush- 
es into mischief, or sinks into melancholy, 

GRAVE OF THE RENOWNED. 

When, to the grave, we follow ihe renowned 
For valor, virtue, science, all we love, [beam 
And all we praise ; for worth, whose noontide 
Mends our ideas of ethereal pow'rs, 
Dream we, that lustre of the moral world 
Goes out in stench, and rottenness the close? 
Why was he wise to know, and warm to praise, 
And strenuous to transcribe, In human life, 
The mind almighty! could it be that fat/5, 
Just when the lineaments began to shine, 
Should snatch the draught, and blrt it out forevte, 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



311 



7 34. Duties oj Imericajt Citizens. 
Felluw-citizens:]et u» not retire from this oc- 
casion, without a deep and solemn conviction 
of the duties, which have devolved upon us. 
This lovely land, this glorious liberty, these 
benign institutions, the dear purchase of our 
fathers, are ours ; ours to enjoy, ours to pre- 
serve, ours to transmit. Generations past, 
and generations to come, hold us responsible 
for this sacred trust. Our fathers, from be- 
hind — admonish us with their anxious, pater- 
nal voices ; postery — calls out to us from the 
bosom of the future; the world turns hither 
its solicitous eyes ; all, all conjure us to act 
wi«3ly, and faithfully, in the relation which 
we sustain. We can never, indeed, pay the 
debt which is upon us ; but, by virtue, by mo- 
rality, by religion, by the cultivation of every 
§ood principle, and every good habit, we may 
ope to enjoy the blessing, through our day, 
and leave it, unimpaired, to our children. 

Let us feel deeply, hpw much of what we 
are, and what we possess, we owe to this lib- 
erty, and to these institutions of government. 
Nature has, indeed, given us a soil, which 
yields bounteously — to the hands of industry; 
the mighty and fruitful ocean is before us, 
and the skies, over our heads, shed health and 1 
vigor. But what are lands, and seas, and 
skies, — to civilized man, without society, with- 
out knowledge, without morals, without reli- 
gious culture ; and how can these be enjoyed, 
in all their extent, and all their excellence, 
but under the protection of wise institutions, 
and a free government] Fellow-citizens, 
there is not one of us here present, who does 
not, at this moment, and at every moment, 
experience, in his own condition, and in the 
condition of those most near and dear to him, 
the influence, and the benefits — of this lib- 
erty, and these institutions. Let lis then, 
acknowledge the blessing; let us feel it deep- 
ly, and powerfully; let us cherish a strong 
affection for it, and resolve to maintain, and 
perpetuate it. The blood of our fathers, let it 
not have been shed in vain ; the great hope 
of posterity, let it not be blasted. 

The striking attitude, too, in which we 
stand to the world around us, — cannot be al- 
together omitted here. Neither individuals, 
nor nations — can perform their part well, 
until they understand, and feel its import- 
ance, and comprehend, and justly appreciate, 
all the duties belonging to it. It is not to in- 
flate national vanity, nor to swell a light and 
empty feeling of self-importance; but it is, 
that we may judge justly of our situation and 
of our duties, that I earnestly urge this con- 
sideration of our position, and our character 
among the nations of the earth. 

It cannot be denied, but by those who would 
dispute against the sun, that with America, 
and in America, a new era commences in 
human affairs. This era is distinguished by 
free representative governments, by entire 
religious liberty, by improved systems of na- 
tional intercourse, by a newly awakened and 
an unquenchable spirit of free inquiry, and 
by a diffusion of knowledge through the com- 
munity, such as has been before, altogether 
unknown, and unheard of. America, Ame- 
rica, our country, fellow-citizens, our own 
dear and native land, is inseparably connect- 
ed, fast bound up, in fortune, and by fate, 
with these great interests. If they fall, we 
fall with them; if they stand, it will be be- 
tause w<* have upholden them. 



Let us contemplate, then, thi \ connection, 
which binds the posterity of others to our 
own ; and let us manfully discharge all the 
duties it imposes. If we cherish tbe virtues, 
and the principles of our fathers, Heaven will 
assist us to carry on the work of human lib- 
erty, and human happiness. Auspicious 
omens cheer us. Great examples are before 
us. Our firmament now shines brightly upon 
our path. Washington is in the clear, upper 
sky. Adams, Jefferson, and other stars have 
joined the American constellation ; they cir- 
cle round their center, and the heavens beam 
with new light. Beneath this illumination, 
let us walk tlie course of life; and, at its close, 
devoutly commend our beloved country, the 
common parent of us all, to the divine be- 
nignity. — Webster. 

735. LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS. 

The breaking waves — dashed high 
On a stern — and jock-bound coast, 

And the woods — against a stormy sky, 
Their giant branches — tossed ; 

And the heavy night — hung dark — 

The hills — and waters o'er, 
When a band of exiles — moored their baTk 

On the wild — New England shore. 

Not — as the conqueror — comes, 

They, the true-hearted, came, 
Not with the roll — of the stirring drums, 

And the trumpet — that sings of fame. 

Not — as the flying — come, 

In silence, — and in fear ; 
They shook — the depth — of the desert's gloom, 

With their hymns of lofty cheer. 

Amidst the storm— they sang, 
And the stars — heard, and the sea; 

And the sounding aisles — of the dim woods raag 
To the anthem — of the free. 

The ocean-eagle — soared 

From his nest — by the white wave's foam, 
And the rocking pines — of the forest roared j 

This — was their welcome home. 

There were men — with hoary hair, 

Amidst that pilgrim band, 
Why had they come — to wither there, 

Away — from their childhood's land? 

There was woman's — fearless eye, 

Lit — by her deep love's truth: 
There was manhood's brow, serenely high, 

And the fiery heart — of youth. 

What — sought they— thus, afar? 

Bright jewels — of the mine? 
The wealth of seas, the spoils of war ? 

They sought — a faith's pure shrine! 

Aye, call it holy ground, 

The soil — where first they trod! [found— 

They have left, unstained— what there — they 

Freedom — to worship God! — Hernans. 

'Tvvas Slander — filled her mouth with lying words, 
Slander, the foulest whelp of Sin. The man 
In whom this spirit entered — was undone. 
His tongue — was set on fire of hell, his heart 
Was black as death, his legs — were faint with hasle 
To propagate the lie — his soul had framed ; 
His pillow — was the peace of families 
Destroyed, the sigh of innocence reproached. 
Broken friendships, and the strife of brotherhood* 
Yet did he spare his sleep, and hear the clock 
Number the midnight watches, on his bed, 
Devising mischief more ; and early rose, 
And made most hellish meals of good men's names 



312 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



73tt. The Pilotums, anb tiikir Dksti- 
n i. Methinks I see it »ow,— that one, solita- 
ry, adventurous vessel, the Maijlower — of a 
forlorn hope, freighted — with the prospects 
of u future state, and bound — across the un- 
known sea. I behold it pursuing, with a 
thousand misgivings, the uncertain, the tedi- 
ous voyage. Suns rise — and set, and weeks, 
and months — pass, and winter — surprises 
them on the deep, but brings them not — the 
sight — of the wished-for shore. I see them 
now, scantily supplied with provisions, crowd- 
ed, almost to suffocation, in their ill-stored 
prison, delayed by calms, pursuing a circuit- 
ous route, — and now, driven in fury, before 
the raging tempest, on the high and giddy 
waves. The awful voice of the storm — howls 
through the rigging. The laboring masts — 
seem straining from their base; the dismal 
sound of the pump — is heard — the ship leaps, 
as it were, madly, from billow to billow ; the 
ocean breaks, and settles with engulphing 
floods — over the floating deck, and beats, 
with deadening weight, against the staggered 
vessel. I see them escaped from these perils, 
pursuing their all but desperate undertaking, 
and landed, at last, after a five months' pas- 
sage, on the ice-clad rocks of Plymouth, — 
weak, and weary from the voyage, — poorly 
armed, scantily provisioned, depending on the 
charity of their ship-master — for a draft of 
beer on board, drinking nothing but water on 
shore, — without shelter, — without means, — 
surrounded by hostile tribes. Shut, now, the 
volume of history, and tell me, on any prin- 
ciple of human probability, what shall be the 
fate of this handfull of adventurers? Tell me, 
man of military science, in how many months 
were they all swept off— by the thirty savage 
tribes, enumerated within the early limits of 
New England] Tell me, politician, how 
long did this shadow of a colony, on which 

?rour conventions and treaties had not smiled, 
anguish on the distant coast? Student of 
history, compare for me — the baffled pro- 
jects, the deserted settlements, the abandon- 
ad adventures, of other times, and find the 
parallel of this. Was it the winter's storm, 
Dealing upon the houseless heads of women 
and children ; was it hard labor and spare 
meals ; was it disease, — was it th<- 'omahawk ; 
was it the deep malady of a blig. *d hope, a 
ruined enterprise, and a broken h, "t, aching 
in its last moments, at the recollee >n of the 
loved and left, beyond the sea ; w. it some, 
or all of these united, that hurries his for- 
saken company to their melanch v fate! 
And is it possible, that neither of these cau- 
ses, that not all combined, were able to blast 
this bud of hope 7 Is it possible, that from 
a beginning so feeble, so frail, so worthy, 
not so much of admiration as of pity, there 
has gone forth a progress so steady, a growth 
to wonderful, a reality so important, a prom- 
ise yet to be fulfilled, so glorious 1 — Everett. 

737. Tribute to William Penn. Wil- 
liam Penn — stands the first, among the law- 
givers, whose names, and deeds are recorded 
m history, snail we compare with him Lycur- 
gus, Solon, Romulus, those founders of mili- 
tary commonwealths, who organized their 
citizens in dreadful ar^ay — against the rest 
of their species '! taught them to consider 
their fellow-men a* barbarians, and them- 
■elves as alone wonny to rule over the earth! 
Wh%«. benefit did mankind derive from their 



boasted institutions 1 Interrogate the shadti 
of those who fell in the mighty contests, be- 
tween Athens and Lacedaemon, between 
Carthage and Rome, and between Rome and 
the rest of the universe. But see our Wil- 
liam Penn, with weaponless hands, silling 
down, peaceably, with his followers, in the 
midst of savage nations, whose only occupa- 
tion was shedding the blood of their fellow- 
men, disarming them by his justice, and teach- 
ing them, for the first time, to view a stranger 
without distrust. See them bury their toma- 
hawks, in his presence, so deep, that man shall 
never be able to find them again. See them 
under the shade of the thick groves of Qua- 
quannoek, extend the bright chain of friend- 
ship, and promise to preserve it, as long as 
the sun, and moon shall endure. See him, 
then, with his companions, establishing his 
commonwealth on the sole basis of religion, 
morality, and universal love, and adopting, 
as the fundamental maxims of his govern- 
ment, the rule handed down to us from 
Heaven, " Glory to God on high, and on 
earth peace, and good will to all men." 

Here was a spectacle — for the potentates 
of the earth to look upon, an example for 
them to imitate. But the potentates the 
earth did not see; or, if they saw, they turned 
away their eyes from the sight ; they did not 
hear ; or, if they heard, they shut their ears 
against the voice. 

The character of William Penn alone, 
sheds a never-fading lustre upon our history. 
No other state in this Union can boast of such 
an illustrious founder ; none began theii so- 
cial career, under auspices so honorable to 
humanity. Every trait of the life of that 
great man, every fact, and anecdote, of those 
golden times, will furnish many an interest- 
ing subject for the fancy of the novelist, and 
the enthusiasm of the poet. — Duponceau. 

738. wolsey's soliloquy o\ ambitioh. 
Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness! 
This — is the state of man : To-day, he puts forth 
The tender leaves of hope ; to-morrow, blossoms. 
And bears his blushing honors — thick upon him ; 
The third day, comes a frost, a killing frost ; 
And, when he thinks, good, easy man, full surely 
His greatness is a ripening, nips his root ; 
And then he falls, as I do. 

I have ventur'd, 
Like little wanton boys, that swim on bladders, 
These many summers — in a sea of glory, 
But far beyond my depth ; my high-blown pride 
At length — broke under me ; and now has left me 
Weary, and old with service, to the mercy 
Of a rude stream, that must forever — hide me 
Vain pomp, and glory of this world, I hate you 
I feel my heart now open'c. 

O ! Icow wretched 
Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' 1 favors ! 
There are, betwixt that smile— he would aspire t*, 
That sweet aspect of princes, and his ruiu, 
More pangs and fears, than war or women have; 
And when he falls, he falls, like Lucifer, 
Never — to rise again. — Shakspeare. 

Meditation — here — 
May think down hours — to moments ; here. lh« 
May give a useful lesson — to the nead, [heart 
And learning:, wiser grow — without his books. 



READINGS AND RECITA1I0NS. 



3J3 



T39. BASQUE GIRL, OR LOVE'S SACRIFICE. 

Twas one of those sweet spots, which seem just 
For lovers' meeting, or, for minstrel haunts :[made 
The maiden's blush— would look so beautiful, 
By those white roses, and the poet's dream, 
Would be so soothing, lull'd by the low notes, 
The birds sing— to the leaves, whose soft reply- 
Is murmur'd by the wind : the grass beneath, 
Is full of wild flowers, and the cypress boughs 
H*ve twined overhead, graceful, and close as love. 
The sun — is shining cheerfully, though scarce his 
May pierce— through the dim shade, yet, still,[rays 
Some golden hues are glancing o'er the trees, 
And the blue flood is gliding by, as bright, 
As hope's first smile. All, lingering, stayed to 
Upon this Eden — of the painter's art, [gaze 

And looking on its loveliness, forgot — 
The crowded world — around them! But a spell, 
Stronger than the. green landscape — fixed the 
The spell — of woman's beauty ! By a beech, [eye — 
Whose long dark shadow — fell upon the stream, 
There stood a radiant girl ! her chestnut hair— 
(One bright gold tint was on it) — loosely fell 
In large rich curls — upon a, neck, whose snow 
And grace — were like the swan's; she wore the 
Of her own village, and her small white feet [garb 
.And slender ancles, delicate, as carved 
From Indian ivory— were bare, — the turf [stood! 
Seem'd scarce to feel their pressure. There she 
Her head — leant upon her arm, the beech's trunk 
Supporting her slight figure, and one hand, 
Press'd to her heart, as if to still its throbs ! 
You never might forget that face, — so young, 
So fair, yet trac'd — with such deep characters 
Of inward wretchedness ! The eyes were dim 
With tears, on the dark lashes ; still, the lip 
Could not quite lose— its own accustom'd smile, 
Even by that pale cheek — it kept its arch, 
And tender playfulness : you look'd, and said, 
What can have shadow'd — such a sunny brow ? 
There is so much of natural happiness, 
In that bright countenance, it seems but formed, 
For Spring's light sunbeams, or yet lighter dews. 
You turned away — then came — anil look'd again, 
Watching the tale, and silent .evenness, 
Till even sleep — wa-3 haunted by that image. 
There was a sever'd chain upon the ground — 
Ah ! love is e'en more fragile than its gifts ! 
A tress of raven hair ;— oh ! only those, 
Whose souls have/W< this one idolatry, 
Can tell — how precious— is the slightest thing, 
Affection gives, and hallows ! A dead flower 
Will long be kept, remembrancer of looks, 
That made each leaf a treasure. The tree 
Had two slight words— graven upon its stem — 
The broken heart's last record— of its faith— 
"Adieu Henri!" 

I learnt the hist'ry of the lovely picture : 
It was a peasant girl's, whose soul was given 
To one — as far above her, as the pine — 
Towers o'er the lovely violet ; yet still 
She lov'd, and was belov'd again, — ere j r et 
The many trammels of the world— weie flung 
Around a heart, whose first and latest pulse, 
Throbb'd— but for beauty : him, the young, the 

brave, 
Chivalrous prince, whose name, in aftet years, 
40 2D 



A. nation— was to worship— that young heart — 
Beat with its first wild passion— that pure feeling, 
Life only once may knew. I will not dwell 
On how affection's bark was launch'd, and lost : 
Love, thou hast hopes, like summer's — shcrt, 

and bright 
Moments of ecstasy, and maddening dreamy, 
Intense, delicious throbs! But happiness 
Is not for thee. If ever thou hast known 
Quiet, yet deep enjoyment, 'tis, or ere 
Thy presence is confessed ; but, once reveai'd 
We bow us down — in passionate devotion, 
Vow'd at thy altar; then the serpents wake, 
That coil around thy votaries — hopes that ss.sk« 
Tears — burning arrows — lingering jealousy, 
And last, worst poison, of thy cup — neglect. 

It matters little, how sue was forgotten, 
Or what she felt— a woman — can but weep. 
She pray'd her lover, but to say— farewell, — 
To meet her, by the river, where such hours 
Of happiness had passed, and said, she knew 
How much she was beneath him ; but she prayM, 
That he would look upon her face — once more ! 

He sought the spot, — upon the beechen tree 
'Adieu Henri " was graven — and his heart — 
Felt cold — within him ! He turned to the wave 
And there— the beautiful peasant floated— Deatr 
Had seal'd — "Love's — sacrifice .'" 

740. HOME. 
There is a land, of every land the pride, 
Belov'd by heaven — o'er all the world beside * 
Where brighter suns — dispense serener light 
And milder moons emparadise the night; 
A land of beauty, virtue, valor, truth, 
Time tutored age, and love exalted youth. 
The wandering mariner, whose eyes explores 
The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shore*, 
Views not a realm — so beautiful and fair, 
Nor breathes a spirit of a purer air ; 
In every clime— the magnet of his soul, 
Touch'd by remembrance, trembles to that pole ; 
For in this land— of heaven's peculiar grace, 
The heritage— of nature's noblest race, 
There is a spot of earth — supremely blest, 
A dearer, sweeter spot— than all the rest, 
Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside 
His sword, and sceptre, pageantry, and pride ; 
Within his softened looks, benignly blend 
The sire, the son, the husband, father, friend : 
Here, woman reigns ; the mother, daughter, wife, 
Strews, with fresh flowers, the narrow way ol 
In the clear heaven of her delightful eye, [life ; 
An angel guard of loves and graces lie ; 
Around her knees, domestic duties meet, 
And fire-side pleasures gamble at her feet. 
Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found! 
Art thou a man? a patriot ? look around ; 
Oh ! thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam, 
That land — thy country, and that spot— thy homel 
He, who, malignant, tears an absent friend, 
Or, w.ien attacked by others, d#n't defend : 
Wht trivial bursts of laughter strives to raise, 
And counts of prating petulance the praise; 
Of things he never saw, who tells his t^.ie, 
And friendship's secrets knows not to conceal -, 
This man is vile ; here, Roman, fix your mark; 
His soul is black. 



314 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



741. MARIA »E TORQUEMADA TAKING TIAE VAIL. 

"M\ r.ki'. you should have soon bar, as she stood, 

&Jdh^ V) ii'iLi- farewell. Ber pretty hands, 

Like two enclasping lilies ; in her eves. 

Two sniveling crystal drops, — her cheek — a rose, 

Yet of the whitest, turned upon the sky, 

To which her thoughts were wing'd ! I never saw 

So heavenly touch'd a sorrow !" 

There is a spot, a holy spot, 

A refuge for the wearied mind ; 
Where earth's wild visions — are forgot, 

And love, thy poison spell 's untwined. 
There, learns the withered heart — to pray — 

There, gently breaks earth's weary chain ; 
Nay, let me weep my life away — 

Let me do all,— but love again. 
Oh ! thou that judgest of the heart, 

Look down upon this bosom bare ; 
And all, all mercy as thou art, 

Save from that wildest, worst despair. 
There — silent, dreamless, loveless, lone, 

The agony, at length, is o'er ; 
The bleeding breast — is turned to stone, 

Hope dies— and passion — wakes no more. 
I ask not death, — I wait thy will ; 

I dare not — touch my fleeting span : 
But let me, oh! not linger still, 

The slave of misery and man! 
Why sink my steps ! one struggle past, 

And all the rest — is quiet gloom ; 
Eyes — look your longest, and your last, 

Then, turn ye to your cell, and tomi>. 
Fly swift, ye hours ! — the convent grate, 

To me— is open Paradise : 
The keenest bitterness of fate, 

Can last, but till the rictiin— dies ! 

712. FALL OF BEAUTY, BY TEMPTATION. 

Once on a lovely day, it was in spring — 
I. rested on the verge of that dread cliff, 
That overlooks old Sterling. Jill was gay ; 
The birds — sang sweet; the trees — put forth their 
leaves, [soms ; 

So pale, that in the sun, they locked like blos- 
Some children wandered, careless, on the hill, 
Selecting ea.r\y flowers. My heart rejoiced, 
For all was glad around me. One sweet maid 
Came tripping near, eyeing, with gladsome smile, 
Each little flower, that bloomed upon the hill : 
Nimbly she picked them, 'minding me of the swan, 
That feeds upon the waste. I blest the girl, — 
She was not maid, nor child ; but of that age, 
Twixt both, when purity of frame, and soul, 
Awaken dreams of beauty, drawn in heaven. 

Deep in a little den, within the cliff, 
Aflow'ret caught her eye, — it was a primrose, 
Fait flaunting in the sun. With eager haste, 
HeeJess of risk, she clambered down the steep, 
Plut"d the wish'd flower, and sighed! for when 

she saw 
The depth she hid descended, then, she woke 
To sense of danger I All her flowers she dropped, 
And tried to gain the height : but — tried in vain ! 
I hastened to her rescue ; but— alas ! 
I came too late I — O God ! she fell. 

Far, l'ar down -on the rocks below, 
Her lovely for.n was found — at rest t 



I saw her, in mid air, fail lik* u seraph 
From out the firmament. The rooks and daw i, 
That fled their roosts, in thousands, at the sight, 
Curtained her exit — from my palsied eye, 
And dizzy brain. O! never, will that scene 
Part from my heart ! whene'er I would be sad, 
I think of it. 

74-3. THE BEST OF WIVES. 

A man had once a vicious wife — 
(A most uncommon thing in life) ; [ceasing. 

His days — and nights — were spent in strife — un 
Her tongue went glibly — all day long, 
Sweet contradiction — still her song, [done. 

And all the poor man did — was wrong, and ill- 
A truce without doors, or within, 
From speeches— long as tradesmen spin, 
Or rest from her eternal din, he found not. 
He every soothing art displayed ; 
Tried of what stuff her skin was made : 
Failing in all, to Heaven he prayed — to take her. 
Once, walking by a river's side, 
In mournful terms, " My dear," he cried, [them. 
" No more let feuds our peace divide, — I'll end 
"Weary JE life, and quite resigned, 
To drown — I have made up my mind, 
So tie my hands as fast behind — as can be, — 
" Or nature— may assert her reign, 
My arms assist, my will restrain, 
And swimming, I once more regain, my trouble! * 
With eager haste — tne dame complies, 
While joy — stands glistening in her eyes; 
Already, in her thoughts, he dies — before her. 
"Yet, when I view the rolling tide, 
Nature revolts" — he said ; " beside, 
I would not be a suicide, and die thus. 
"It would be better, far I think, 
While close I stand — upon the brink, 
You push me in, — nay, never shrink — but do it. 
To give the blow— the more effect, 
Some twenty yards — she ran direct, [de. 

And did— what she could least expect, she should 
He slips aside — himself to save, 
So souse — she dashes, in the wave, [pleasure. 
And gave, what ne'er she gave before — much 
" Dear husband, help ! I sink !" she cried : 
"Thou best of wives— " the man replied, 
" I would, — but you my hands have tied, — hea- 
ven help you." 
The modern device of consulting indexes, 
is to read books hebraically, and begin where 
others usually end. And this is a compendi- 
ous way of coming to an acquaintance with 
authors ; for authors are to be used like lob- 
sters, you must look for the best meat in the 
tails, and lay the bodies back again in the 
dish. Your cunningest thieves (and what 
else are readers, who only read to borrow, i. 
e. to steal) use to cut off the portmanteau 
from behind, without staying to dive into the 
pockets of the owner. — Swift. 
Desire, (when young) is easily suppressed ; 
But, cherished by the sun of warm encourage 

ment, 
Becomes too strong— and potent — for control ; 
Nor yields— but to despair the worsi of passione 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS 



315 



744. ALEXANDER'S FEAST. 

*Twas— at the royal feast, for Persia won, 
By Philip's warlike son. — 

Aloft, in awful state, the godlike hero sat 
Ofi his imperial throne. 

His valiant peers — were placed around, 
Their brows.with roses, and with myrtles bound; 
So, should desert, in arms be crowned. 
The lovely Thais, by his side, 
Sat, like a blooming Eastern bride, 
Jn flower of youth, and beauty's pride. — 
Happy, happy, happy pair! 
None but the brave, none but the brave. 
None but the brave — deserve the fair. 
Timotheus, placed on r.igh, 
Amid the tuneful choir, 
With flying fingers — touched the lyre; 
The trembling notes ascend the sky, 
And heavenly joys inspire. 
The song — began from Jove, 
Who left his blissful seats above ; 
Such is the power — of mighty love. 
A dragon's fiery form belied *he god : 
Sublime, on radiant spheres he rode, 

When he, to fair Olympia pressed, [the world. 
And stamped an image of himself, a sovereign of 
The listening crowd— admire the lofty sound : 
A present deity ! they shout around ; 
A present deity ! the vaulted roofs rebound. 
With ravished ears, the monarch hears; 
Assumes the god, affects to nod, 
And seems to shake the spheres. 
The praise of Bacchus, then, the sweet musician 
Of Bacchus, ever fair, and ever young. [sung, 
The jolly god in triumph comes ! 
Sound the trumpets, beat the drums 
Flushed with a purple grace, 
He snows his honest face. [comes ! 

N>w. give the hautboys breath — he comes! he 
Bacchus, ever fair and young, 
Drinking joys did first ordain. 
Bacchus' blessings are a treasure ; 
Drinking is the soldier's pleasure. 
Rich the treasure ; sweet the pleasure ; 
Sweet is pleasure after pain. 

Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain ; 
Fought his battles o'er again ; [the slain. 

Knd tin-ice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew 
The master saw the madness rise ; 
His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes; 
And, while he heaven and earth defied, 
Changed his hand, and checked his pride. — 

He chose a mournful muse, soft pity to infuse, 
He sung Darius, great and good, [len, 

By too severe a fate, fallen, fallen, fallen, fal- 
Fallen from his high estate, 
And weltering in his blood. 
Deserted, in his utmost need, 
By those, his former bounty fed, 
On the bare earth — exposed he lies, 
With not a friend— to close his eyes.— 

With downcast look — the joyless victor sat, 
Revolving, in his altered soul, 

The various turns of fate below, 
And, now and then, a sigh he stole, 
And tears — began to flow. 

The master smiled, to see, 

That love — was in the next degree ; 

Twas but a kindred sound to move ; 

For pity — melts the mind to love. 

Softly sweet in Lydian measures, 
Soon, he soothed his soul to pleasure! , 
War, he sung, is toil and trouble; 
Honor, but an emptv bubble ; 
Never ending, still beginning, 
Flighting still, and still destroying. 

'If the world be worth thy winning, 
Think, oh! think it worth enjoying! 
Lovely Thais sits beside thee ; -' 
Take the good the gods provide thee.— 



The many rend the skies vrith loud applause ; 
So love was crowned, but music — won the cause. 
The piince, unable to conceal his pair.. 

Gazed on the fair, who caused his care, 
And sighed and looked ; sighed and looked 
Sighed and looked; and sighed again: 
At length, with love, and wine, at once oppress'd, 
The vanquished victor — sunk — upon her breasi 

Now. strike the golden lyre again; 
A louder yet, and yet a louder strain: 
Break his bands of sleep asunder, 
And rouse him, like a rattling peal <tT;$ tender. 

Hark '. hark ! — the horrid sound [deki, 

Hath raised up his head, as aw: Jtcc. from lias 

And amazed he stares around. 
Revenge, revenge ! Timotheus cries — 
See the furies arise ! See the snakes that they rear, 

How they hiss in the air, 
And the sparkles that flash from their eyes ! 
Behold a ghastly band, each a torch in his hand ! 
These are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slaia, 
And, unburied, remain inglorious on the plain. 
Give the vengeance due to the valiant crew. 
Behold, how they toss their torches on high ! 

How they point to the Persian abodes, 

And glittering temples of thevr hostile gods! 
The princes applaud, with a furious joy ; [stroy : 
And the king seized a flambeau, with zeal to de- 
, Thais led the way, to light him to his prey ; 
And. like another Helen — fired another Troy. 

Thus, long ago, ere heaving bellows learned to 
While organs yet were mute ; [blow, 

Timotheus, to hisbrealhing flute and sounding lyre, 
Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire. 
At last, divine Cecilia came, 
Inventress of the vocal frame. 
The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, 
Enlarged the former narrow bounds, 
And added length — to solemn sounds, [tore. 
With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown b»» 
Let old Timotheus yield the prize, 

Or both — divide the crown ; 
He — raised a mortal — to the skies ; 
She — drew an angel down. — Dryden. 

ORATOR PUFF. 
Mr. Orator Puff— had two tones— in his voice, 

The one — squeaking thus, and the other down so ; 

In each sentence he utter'd he gave you your choice, 

For one half was B alt, and the rest G below. 

Oh ! oh ! Oratar Puff, 

One voice for an orator 's surely enough. 

But he still talked away, spite of coughs and of frowss, 

So distracting all ears with his ups and his downs, 
That a wag once, on hearing the orator say, 
" My voice iB for war," ask'd him, " Whicli of them, pray?" 
Oh! oh! &c. 
Reeling homewards, one evening, top-heavy with gin, 

And rehearsing his speech on the weight of the crown, 
He tripp'd near a saw-pit, and tumbled right in, 
" Sinking fund," the last words as his noddle came down. 
Oh! oh! &c. 
u Good Lord !" he exclaim'd, in his he-and-she tones, 

" Help me out ! — help me out ! — I have broken my bones*' 

" Help you out !" said a Paddy, who pass'd, " what a bother 

Why, there's two of you there ; can't you help one x» 

Oh!oh!&c [other!* 

CHARACTER OF A GOOD PAHSOIV. 

His preaching much, but more his practice wrot 
(A living sermon of the truths he taught;) 
For this by rules severe his life he squared, 
That all might see the doctrine which they heaii 
For priests, he said, are patterns for the rest ; 
(The gold of heav'n, who bear the God impress'**; 
But when the precious coin is kept unclean, 
The sovereign's image is no longer seen. 
If they be foul on whom the people trust, 
Well may the baser coin contract a rust 



316 



READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



7-45. Austrian Slanders and Hungarian 
Bravery. — Kossuth. While, during our holy 
struggle, we wore secluded from the world, our 
enemies, wanting to cover their crimes by lies, 
told you the tale, that in Hungary, we are hut 
au insignificant party — and this party fanaticized 
by myself. Well, I "feel proud at my country's 
strength. They stirred up, by foul delusions, 
even to the fury of civil war, our Croat, Wallack, 
Serb, and Slovack brethren against us : but this 
did not suffice. The house of Austria poured all 
its forces upon us ; but this would not do ; we 
beat them down. The proud dynasty was forced 
to stoop at the foot of the Czar. He thrust his 
legions upon us ; and still we could have been a 
match for them : One thing there was, that we, 
the plain children of straight-uprightness, could 
not match ; that is, the intrigues of Russian 
diplomacy, which knew how to introduce treason 
into our ranks. This caused us to fail, combined 
with Russian arms. But still we were styled a 
-party, fanaticized by me. " Well, I thank them 
for the word." You may judge by this, what 
will then be, when not a mere party, but together, 
all the Magyars, the Croats, Wallacks, Serbs, and 
Slovacks, united into one body, will range under 
the standard of freedom and right. And he ye 
sure they will. Humanity, with its childish faith, 
can be deluded for a moment ; but the bandage 
soon falls from its eyes, and it will be cheated no 
more. 

Afterward, the scorned party turned out to be a 
nation, and a valiant one. But still our enemies 
said, it was I, who inspired it. Perhaps there 
might be some glory in inspiring such a nation, 
and to such a degree. But I cannot accept the 
praise. No : it is not I who inspired the Hun- 
garian people, — it was the Hungarian people who 
inspired me. Whatever I thought and still 
think, whatever I felt and still feel, is but a 
feeble pulsation of that heart, which beats in the 
breasts of my people. The glory ef battles, in 
history, is ascribed to the leaders ; theirs are the 
laurels of immortality. And yet, on meeting the 
danger, they knew, that alive or dead, their 
names will live upon the lips of the people for- 
ever. How different, how much purer, is the 
light spread on the image of thousands of people's 
sons, who, knowing that where they fall they will 
lie unknown, their names unhonored and unsung, 
but who, nevertheless, animated by the love of 
freedom and fatherland, went calmly on, singing 
national anthems, against batteries, whose cross- 
fire vomited forth death and destruction, and 
took them, without firing a shot ; they who fell, 
falling with tht shout — " Hurrah for Hungary! " 
And so they died by thousands, — the unnamed 
demigods! Such are the people of Hungary. 
Still they say, it was /, who have inspired them. 
No ; a thousand times, no. It is they who have 
Inspired me. 

The moment of death is a dreary one. Even 
the features of Cato partook of the impression 
of this dreariness. A shadow passed over the 
brow of Socrates, on drinking of the hemlock 
eup. But with us, those who behold the nameless 
victims of the love of country, lying on the 
death-field beneath Buda's walls, met but the 
impression of a smile on the frozen lips of the 
dead ; and the dying answered those who would 
console—" Never mind : Buda is ours : Hurrah 
for our Fatherland ! " So they spoke,— and died. 
He who witnessed such scenes, not as exceptions 
but as a constant rule, with thousands of the 
people's nameless sons ; he who sar/ the boy 
weep, when told, that he was too young to die 
for his country : he, who saw the spontaneous 
imerifices of our nation ; he, who saw what a 
fury spread over the people, when they heard of 



the final catastrophe ; he, who marked their ■ 
behaviour, towards the victors, when all was lost 
he, who knows what sore curses is mixed in the 
prayers of the Magyar, and what kind of senti- 
ment is burning alike in the breast of the old 
and of the child, of the strong man and of the 
tender loife, and ever will be burning on, till the 
hour of national resurrection strikes ; he, who 
is aware of all this, will surely bow before my 
people with respect, and will acknowledge, with 
me, that such a people wants not to be inspired, 
but that it is itself an everlasting source of 
inspiration. Such are the people of Hungary. 
And for me, my only glory is, that this people 
found in myself, the personification of their own 
sentiments. 

746. Capabilities op Hungary and her 
Sympathisers — Kossuth. Some have questioned 
the capabilities of Hungary, to maintain herself 
as an independent nation. But she has all the 
elements of independence. She has four thousand 
German square miles, and a population of thirteen 
millions, who are brave and industrious. She 
has no debt of her own ; and she is not liable for 
the debts of Austria. True, we created a debt, 
during our recent struggle ; but the house of 
Austria burnt the greater part of it ; so, (thanks 
to them,) we are free from that. Then, Hungary 
is. in consequence of her municipal institutions, 
accustomed to cheap government. Municipal 
government is always cheap; while centralized 
governments are always dear. Again, she has 
great resources ; she is rich in mines, and could 
supply the whole world with the purest salt, for 
ten thousand years. Then, she has large national 
estates, which might be distributed so as to 
increase the revenue 'very materially. The prin- 
ciple of self-government is so strongly implanted 
in the Hungarians, that nothing can eradicate it. 

And let it not be forgotten, that the freedom 
of Hungary is intimately connected with the 
question of freedom in Europe, and the principles 
of self-government: and while you will not 
interfere in the self-government of foreign nations, 
you will determine not to allow other countries to 
interfere. To this extent, I wish to see the people 
of this country turn their attention to foreign 
affairs, and exercise their influence to spread the 
principles of freedom and self-government. — 
Remember, that, with every down-beaten nation, 
one rampart of liberty falls. 

I therefore rely upon your active sympathy 
most confidingly. I rely upon it, in the name of 
all who suffer oppression and languish for free- 
dom, like my people and myself. All they are 
my brethren, whatever tongue they speak, what- 
ever country they call their home. Members of 
the great family of mankind, the tie of blood is 
strengthened between us by common sufferings. 
The nameless woes of my native land, as well as 
the general reception I enjoy, may, perhaps, 
entitle me to entreat you, out of the depths of 
my own desolation ; take it for the cry of oppresed 
humanity, crying out by my stuttering tongue. 

Do not forget, ye lovers of liberty, in your own 
happiness, our sufferings. Remember, in your 
freedom . those who are oppressed ; remember, in 
your own proud security the indignities we 
endure. Remember the fickleness of human fate. 
— that those wounds, with which the nations 
bleed, are so many wounds inflicted on that 
principle of liberty, which makes your glory and 
happiness. Remember that is a tie in mankind's 
destiny ; be thankful for the tear of compassion 
you shed over our mournful past, — but, have 
something more than a tear, — have a brother^ 
hand to give to our pressure, and do unto us, u 
you would have others do to you. 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, AND DIALOGUES. 



317 



949. A DULO'JUE BETWEEN A MINISTER, A SON 
0* TEMPERANCE, AND A TAVERN KEEPER. 



Minister. I have never had but one opinion 
on this subject, and that is adverse to your 
great " Movements," as you call them. 

Son of Temperance. (With surprise.) 
Adverse ! 

M. That is the word I have used. 

£. of T. You surprise me. Of all others, 
I would expect to find, in the Minister of the 
Gospel, the advocate of Temperance. 

M. I am the advocate of Temperance. 

S. of T. And, yet, you do not approve our 
action in this cause. 

M. I do not. 

S.ofT. Why so, sir? 

M. Your pledge is based upon a simple 
human resolution. Now, I acknowledge no 
reforming power, but the grace of God. Build 
the foundations of your Order upon religious 
principles, and then I will have confidence 
therein. But, so long as all depends on the 
unsustained, unregenerated will of man, there 
is no safety. Human resolutions may appear 
very strong for a time ; but, so long as they 
are unsustained by the silver cords of divine 
truth, and the golden bands of divine love, 
they may be broken at any moment Your 
pledges and associations are but external 
bonds, in danger of being severed at any 
time, that inward struggling, self-love, self- 
interest, appetite, or unsubdued passion 
regain strength ; but, religion is an attraction 
that dra*s from the centre of a man's life, 
and holds all in permanent integrity. Your 
" moral suasion," depend upon it, is of little 
value ; I believe only in religious " suasion." 

8. of T. What do you mean by religious ? 

M. A change of heart, wrought by the 
grace of God. Such a change is worth a 
thousand pledges. The new man is freed 
from the shackles of old appetites and pas- 
sions ; he is washed from his impurities ; he 
has left the fiery streams of sin, and drinks, 
now, only of the waters of life. 

S. of T. But, how is a drunkard to begin 
to be religious? 

Tavern Keeper. I knew several of these 
men, Parson B., who have been saved by 
vour religious "suasion," as you call it. 

M. Well? What of them? 

Tav. Keep. Out of six, who joined the 
Church, four drink at my bar as freely as 
ever; two keep sober, but one of these is a 
nigger rascal than he was before. These are 
facts ; and no one should be afraid to look at 
facts. So much for your pledges, and so 
much for your religion! I wouldn't give 
much for either. 

M. Nor would I give much for your hopes 
»f heaveu, friend Tavern Keener. You 
mustn't be angry with me, for speaking the 
truth. 

Tav. Keep. The troth, as seen from your 
point ol view. Not in the least angry. I am 
a plain spoken man of the world; I can 
receive, in turn, a good share of plain speak- 
ing. 



S. of 7\ Let us not, by any thing offen- 
sively personal, disturb, on this occasitn, the 
balance of each other's minds. We three, all 
men of some experience, look upon the great 
temperance movement, from different points 
of observation. Each sees what is before 
him, in a peculiar light, and comes to his 
conclusions through a different course of 
reasoning. No harm can, and some good 
may, arise, from an interchange of ideas. 

Tav. Keep. So / think. And, if yon, 
gentlemen, wish to converse on the subject 
of Temperance, I am willing to give you tho 
benefit of my conclusions on the subject. 

M. Suppose, then, friend Tavern Keeper, 
you give us your views about Temperance. 

Tav. Keep. Well ; my view, to speak 
frankly, is, that neither ministers nor tem- 
perance men, as a general thing, are doing 
half the good they might do. 

8. of T. Indeed ! how so ? 

Tav. Keep. I do not speak lightly, nor 
from prejudice, in what I say. It was but 
natural, that, from my relation to this move- 
ment, I should, from the beginning, assume 
an attitude of observation. At first, I was 
rather alarmed. You attacked the enemy so 
vigorously, and carried point after point, with 
such indomitable bravery, that I really began 
to fear for my own position: and there was a 
period, when, blinded by self-interest, and 
angry with the sweeping denunciations hurled 
at the heads of tavern keepers, I would, had 
it been in my power, have crushed the very 
heart out of your salutary reform. That 
feeling, however, in time, passed away, and 
was followed by a better state of mind. I 
was still a careful observer; yet, with my 
sympathies all on your side, 

S. of T. And still continued in the traffic? 

Tav. Keep. (Not appearing to notice this 
remark.) It was not long, however, before I 
saw, that your system had in it a most fatal 
error. 

S. of T. Ah! And pray what was this 
error? 

Tav. Keep. You took from the clinging 
vine its old support, yet failed to furnish 
another of adequate strength. 

M. You are right there, friend Tavern 
Keeper: this I have always said. 

S. of T. We procured employment for 
the reformed inebriate. We organized asso- 
ciations, in which he might act with his 
fellow man, and find others to lean upon in 
his weakness ; others, who would encourage 
him to persevere in the good work he had 
begun. We interested his sympathies in the 
poor drunkard, and sent him forth into the 
highways and by-ways, the lanes and the 
alleys, on missions of mercy. 

Tav. Keep. And, for a while, everything 
went on bravely. 

M. But, all was done in the strength of 
mere human resolutions; and these are, in 
times of strong temptations, weaker than the 
bruised reed. No wonder, that so many, 
who had run well for a season, fainted and 
failed by the way. There is, depend upon 
it, no true reliance upon any system that is 
not based upon religion The heart mast firat 



313 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



be changed. Unless reform begins here, all 
is hopeless. 

Tar. Keep. So you ministers all say ; and. 
yet. the {.ledge has made fifty sober men out 
of drunkards, where your religion, as you call 
it, has made one I speak knowingly on the 
subject. 

M. It pains me, to hear any one speak so 
lightly of religion. 

Tav. Keep. Don't misunderstand me. I 
am no scoffer at God and the Bible. 

M. And yet you scoff at religion. 

Tav. Keep. Don't misunderstand me in 
this, either. I have only spoken of the value 
of what you call religion, in reforming the 
drunkard. Do not construe my remarks into 
any thing beyond this. 

M. What we call religion ? 

Tav Keep. Your suddenly wrought con- 
versions. I mean. Your washing the Ethiop's 
skin white in a moment. In this kind of 
religion I never had any faith : and this kind 
of religion, let me tell you, never had, nor ever 
will have, any salutary efficacy, in saving 
men from the degradation of drunkenness. 

M. The Bible is very explicit on this 
aubject. To all men, whether sober or not, it 
says, " Ye must be born again." Here is the 
only chance of salvation from evil. 

Tav. Keep. I have never questioned this. 
But I have always questioned your common 
interpretation of the Scripture annunciation. 
The Bible regards our natural birth as the 
type of spiritual birth, does it not 1 

M. Certainly. 

Tav. Keep. And, yet, your new spiritual 
man is conceived and born in a moment ; 
coming forth, as it were, in full stature. But, 
in natural birth, there is brought forth a 
tender, helpless, ignorant infant, and a growth 
therefrom, with almost imperceptible slow- 
ness; until, at length, we have the man in 
full stature. If this is the case, naturally, 
how can we look for a different order of things 
spiritually ? I am no Doctor ot Divinity ; but, 
depend upon it, my friend, you can have no 
tiae spiritual man in any other way 

S. of T. There is, to my mind, force in 
what you say ; and I perceive some glimpses 
of a new light breaking in upon me. Without 
doubt, as experience too amply demonstrates, 
there is some defect in our system ; for, 
though we can draw multitudes over to our 
side, large numbers soon leave us for the old 
enticements. It seems too true, that we take 
from the clinging vine its former supports, 
and fail to give another, having equal power 
to lift up to the breezes and sun-shine. 

Tav. Keep. In other words, as Temperance 
reformers, you cut off from a man, who has 
sought, for years, his pleasure in sensual 
indulgence, all his old delights ; and, ere a 
new and higher life is developed, you fail to 
substitute for him those innocent social plea- 
sures, that he may enter into without danger. 
You make stirring appeals to his reason and 
manhood, and all that ; while, in truth, he is 
but a child, weak-lirabed, and tottering in the 
right way. You lift him upon his feet, and 
say to him, " Walk on bravely, confidently, 
and all will be well ;" and, yet, he has, m 



himself, no strength And with the Churob 
it is no better, but rather worse. 
M. Don't say that. 

Tav. Keep, it is true. There, everything; 
I might almost assert, is taken away. The 
Church excludes all pleasures, as evil in 
themselves. What ground is there, therefore, 
for the reformed drunkard to stand upon? 
M. The ground of trust in God. 
Tav. Keep. Good ground, I will own, fox 
those who can trust in Him. 
M. All may, if they will. 
Tav. Keep. But, there lies the great 
difficulty. This willing to trust in God is 
easy enough in theory, but how difficult do 
thousands, and tens of thousands, find it in 
practice. Many seem, for a time, to trust in 
God ; but the result proves, that it is only 
seeming. Depend upon it, your Church 
systems, with here and there an exception, 
fail to provide for that very class most in need 
of its saving influence. You require them to 
come up to you, but never dream of going 
down to them. 
M. You make broad assertions, my friend. 
Tav. Keep. Yet true, as that the sun 
shines. The children of this world, as they 
were eighteen hundred years ago, are still 
wiser than the children of light. They go 
down to the level of the ignorant, the sensual, 
and the debased, and hold them where they 
are, by ministering to what is in them. But 
the •' children of light," as the religionists of 
the day esteem themselves, never do this. 
They offer only mental pleasures and sublime 
ecstacies, and condemn all sensual pleasures 
as evil. Instead of coming dow^i to the 
sensual-minded, with pure sensual pleasures, 
and, by these, gradually lifting them up, step 
by step, until, by an almost imperceptible 
transition, they are able to elevate them into 
a perception of mental delights, they say to 
all, in a spirit of self-righteousness, come up 
to us. But, alas ! who of the grovelling crowd 
are able to go up ? 
M. What would you have us do ? 
Tav. Keep. I can say what I think it wise 
for you to do. 

M. Well : what is it 1 
Tav. Keep. Bring within the pale of the 
Church all innocent pleasures. 
M. What do you call innocent ? 
Tav. Keep. Such as do not violate any of 
God's commandments. 
M. Mention some of them. 
Tav. Keep. Dancing, concerts of fine 
music, exercises in elocution, dramatic repre- 
sentations, and all other modes of enjoyment 
not evil in themselves. 
M. No; never. 

S. of T. You are right, friend Tavern 
Keeper ! I see this as I never saw it before. 
It is too true, that we have failed to provide 
innocent pleasures, blending the sensual with 
the intellectual, for those, who, during long 
years, have debased themselves in things 
merely corporeal. And this has arisen, 
mainly, from our desire, as temperance men, 
to be co-workers with the Churches. We 
saw, and acknowledged, the power of God ia 
saving men; and numbers of us had faith ia 



AND DIALOGUES. 



319 



the pledge ; only so far as it paved the way 
for religion, But, afar off, in stately attitudes, 
■tood the Church, with a repulsive, rather than 
an inviting aspect. It did not come down 
to help us ; hut rather rebuked us, for inter- 
fering with its exclusive right to save men. 

Tav. Keep. Your arch-enemy knows better 
how to do his work. He understands the 
power of dramatic spectacles, of music and 
pictures, of all things that appeal to the 
senses; and he is daily gathering in his 
harvest, of those whom the Church neglects to 
save. Under his particular patronage is the 
theatre, which you might make so all-power- 
ful for good; and, everywhere, he is seizing 
upon things innocent, yet despised and 
neglected by the Church, and making them 
engines of destruction. But, good morning! 
I have said a great deal more than I expected 
to say, at first. Pardon , my free speaking; 
and do not be so unwise as to reject what is 
untrue, even though it be uttered by a Tavern 
Keeper. Good morning, gentlemen. 

S. of T. Just one word, if you please. 

Tav. Keep. Well ; speak freely. 

S. of T. I must also venture upon a plain 
Word or two, before we part. I acknowledge 
myself your debtor, for useful hints; perhaps 
I may be of equal service to you. 

Tav. Keep. Say on: I am always willing 
to learn, 

S. of T. You seem to have thought a good 
deal on the subject of temperance. Has it 
never occurred to you, that, as a vender of 
liquor, you were doing harm in the com- 
munity ? 

Tav. Keep. O yes ; often. But, then, I 
have argued, that my giving up the sale of 
ardent spirits, wouldn't lessen their consump- 
tion. Some one else would take my stand, 
and sell on, just the same as before. And, 
why, I have asked myself, should I not have 
the benefit, as well as another. 

S. of T. Might not a thief, or robber, use 
the same argument? 

Tav. Keep. Not always; for, if he failed 
to rob, or steal, in a certain case, his intended 
victim would, in all probability, go free of 
harm. 

S. of T. Perhaps so. Still, I do not 
understand how any one, as intelligent and 
observant as you are, can reconcile it to his 
instinctive sense of right, to make gain of that 
which destroys his brother, body and soul. 

Tav. Keep. I doubt, if many who sell 
liquor, permit that instinctive sense of right, 
to which you refer, to come into play. 

S. of T. How can they help it ? 

Tav. Keep. The selfish love of gain rules 
over most of our impulses. 

S. of T. Most true. But, are we just to 
ourselves, to say nothing of society, thus to 
permit self-love to overrule these better 
impulses? 

Tav. Keep. I will not say that we are. 

M. Society is held in its integrity, by the 
bond of mutual benefits. The farmer, the 
mechanic, the manufacturer, the artist, are all 
engaged in promoting the public good. Each 
works for, and provides, food raiment, or 
wher things needful to sustain life, and 



increase the common stock of enjoyment. A 
few are drones in the hive; spending their 
days in idleness, and taking from others, 
without rendering a just return of benefits. 
And there is yet another class, who are 
neither producers nor idlers, but parasites, 
drawing life from the very hearts of the 
people ; who pull down, but never aid in 
building up, the social fabric. Can you guess 
the class to which I allude ? 

Tav. Keep. To do so, would not, by any 
means, be difficult. 

S. of T. It grieves me, friend Tavern 
Keeper, to adjudge you as belonging to this 
class. 

Tav. Keep. I will not gainsay your judg- 
ment now- To-morrow it will be different. 

S. of T. Do I hear aright? Will you, 
indeed, give up this evil traffic ? 

Tav. Keep. Such is my purpose. For 
some time, my mind has been approaching 
this decision. It has been confirmed by our 
present conversation. 

S. of T. You will come over on our side, 
and help us ? 

Tav. Keep. I will abandon the sale of 
liquor. Thus much I owe to society, as a 
good citizen. Beyond that, I can now pledge 
myself to nothing. As already said, I do not 
think either your rule of action, or that of the 
Church, the surest and best that can be 
adopted. You do not come down low enough, 
stooping under the poor debased drunkard, 
like the mother-bird to her fledgings. You do 
not wisely regard what is in man, You do 
not come to his senses with enticements, and 
thus give him the good, opposite to the evil 
that has been removed. But I have spoken 
of this already. Good morning ! 

S. of T. May God confirm you in your 
good resolutions. 

M. Amen. 

Tav. Keep, And may he bring to your 
love of serving your fellows, a higher intelli- 
gence ; for, rest assured, that both of you have 
much to learn of the science, by which we 
are saved from evil. 

750. DEBATE — CHARACTER OP JULIUS OffiSAK. 

N. B. This Debate can be given as a WHOLE, ox 
any part of it be declaimed by one, or more 
individuals, according to circumstances. 

R. A., Chairman. 

The Debaters.— J. G., F. fet., R. P., R. G., B. G., 
F. A., R. V., W. M., R. T., W. S., H. H., F. W. 

R. A. Gentlemen, I am happy to see you. 
Agreeably to the notice of your late worthy 
chairman, you have assembled to discuss the 
propriety of calling Caesar a Great Man. I 
promise myself much satisfaction from your 
debate. I promise myself the pleasure of 
hearing many ingenious arguments on each 
side of the question, and >he gratification of 
witnessing a contest, maintained with anima 
tion, good humor, and courtesy. You are my 
sureties, and I shall not be disappointed. 

The avocations of your late chairman have 
not allowed him to resume his seat— a seat 
honorable in itself, but more honorable from 



320 



READINGS. RECITATIONS, 



the digiJty with which he filled it. I have 
boon appointed to succeed him. 

My iirst duty is, to bear testimony to the 
accomplishments of my predecessor; to his 
eloquence, his disinterestedness, and his 
address. My next duty regards myself; and 
calls upon me to declare my sense of the 
honor I enjoy, in having been appointed to 
this station. My last duty — and one that I 
discharge with great diffidence — is, to present 
you Trif-i* a lew observations that have 
reference to the occasion of your being 
assembled. 

Yoa are assembled, gentlemen, to discuss 
the merit? of a man, whose actions are con- 
nected with some of the most interesting 
events in Roman story. You have given the 
subject due consideration. You come pre- 
pared for die contest ; and I shall not presume 
to offer any opinion, respecting the ground 
which either side ought to take. My remarks 
shall be confined to the study of Oratory ; and, 
allow me to say, I consider Oratory to be the 
second end of our academic labors, of which 
the first end is, to render us enlightened, 
useful, and virtuous. 

The principal means of communicating our 
ideas are two — speech and writing. The 
former is the parent of the latter; it is the 
more important, and its highest efforts are 
called Oratory. 

If we consider the very early period at 
which we begin to exercise the faculty of 
speech, and the frequency with which we 
exercise it, it must be a subject of surprise, 
that so few excel in Oratory. In any enlight- 
ened community, you will find numbers who 
are highly skilled in some particular art or 
science, to the study of which they did not 
apply themselves, till they had almost arrived 
at the stage of manhood. Yet, with regard to 
the powers of speech— those powers which 
the very second year of our existence gener- 
ally calls into action, the exercise of which 
goes on at our sports, our studies, our walks, 
our very meals ; and which is never long 
suspended, except at the hour of refreshing 
sleep ; with regard to those powers, how few 
surpass their fellow-creatures of common- 
information and moderate attainments ! how 
very few deserve distinction! how rarely 
does one attain to eminence ! 

The causes are various; but we must not 
attempt, here, to investigate them. I shall 
simply state, that one cause of our not 
generally excelling in Oratory, is, our neglect- 
ing to cultivate the art of speaking — of 
speaking our own language. We acquire 
the power of expressing our ideas, almost 
insensibly; we consider it as a thing that is 
natural to us ; we do not regard it as an art : 
it is an art — a difficult art — an intricate art — 
and our ignorance of that circumstance, or our 
omitting to give it due consideration, is the 
cause of our deficiency. 

In the infant, just beginning to articulate, 
you will observe every inflection that is 
recognized in the most accurate treatise on 
elocution ; you will observe, further, an exact 
proportion in its several cadences, and a 
•peaking expression in its tones. Select a 



dozen men — men of education, erudition — ask 
them to read a piece of animated composition : 
you will be fortunate if you find one in the 
dozen, that can raise, or depress* his voice — 
inflect or modulate it, as the variety of the 
subject requires. What has become of the 
inflections, the cadences, and the modulation, 
of the infant ? They have not been exercised ; 
they have been neglected ; they have never 
been put into the hands of the artist, that he 
might apply them to their proper use ; they 
have been laid aside, spoiled, abused ; and, ten 
to one, they will never be good for any thing! 

Oratory is highly useful to him that excels 
in it. In common conversation, observe the 
advantage which the fluent speaker enjoys 
ovor the man that hesitates, and stumbles in 
discourse. With half his information, he has 
twice his importance ; he commands the 
respect of his auditors ; he instructs and 
gratifies them. In the general transactions 
of business, the same superiority attends him. 
He communicates his views with clearness, 
precision, and effect; he carries his point 
by his mere readiness ; he concludes his 
treaty, before another kind of man would have 
well set about it. Does he plead the cause 
of friendship ? how happy is his friend! Of 
charity? how fortunate is the distressed? 
Should he enter the Senate of his country, he 
gives strength to the party which he espouses ; 
should he be independent of party, he is a 
party in himself. If he advocates the cause 
of liberty, he deserves to be the people's 
champion ; if he defends their rights, he 
approves himself the people's bulwark ! 

That you will persevere in the pursuit of so 
useful a study, as that of Oratory, I confi- 
dently hope. That your progress has been, 
hitherto, considerable, I am about to receive 
a proof. 

Gentlemen, the questionfor debate, is — Was 
Cesar a Great Man? 

J. G. Sir, to bespeak your indulgence, is a 
duty, imposed, no less, by a knowledge of 
your desert, than by a consciousness of my 
deficiency. I am unpractised in the orator's 
art; nor can I boast that native energy of 
talent, which asks not the tempering of 
experience ; but, by its single force, effects 
what seems the proper achievement of labors, 
and of years. Let me, then, hope, that yon 
will excel in favor, as much as I shall fall 
short in merit. Let me presume, that the 
performance of what I undertake with diffi 
dence, will be regarded by you with allowance. 
Let me anticipate, that failure will not be 
imputed as a crime, to him, who dares not 
hope success. 

"Was Caesar a great man?" What revo 
lution has taken place in the first appointed 
government of the universe ; what new and 
opposite principle has begun to direct the 
operations of nature ; what refutation of their 
long established precepts, has deprived Reason 
of her sceptre, and "Virtue of her throne, that 
a character, which forms the noblest theme 
that ever Merit gave to Fame, should now 
become a question for dehate ? 

No painter of human excellence, if ho 
would draw the features of that hero's 



AND DIALOGUES. 



321 



character, needs study a favorable light, or 
■triking attitude. In every posture, it has 
majesty; and the lineaments «.'its beauty are 
prominent in every point of view. Do you 
ask me, "Had Caesar genius?" He was an 
orator! " Had Caesar judgment?" He was 
a politician ! " Had Caesar valor V He was 
a conqueror! "Had Caesar feeling?" He 
was a friend ! 

It is a generally received opinion, that 
an common circumstances make uncommon 
men. Caesar was an uncommon man, in 
common circumstances. The colossal mind 
commands your admiration, no less in the 
pirate's captive, than in the victor of Phar- 
ealia. Who, but the first of his race, could 
have made vassals of his savage masters, 
mocked them into reverence of his suDerior 
nature, and threatened, with impugnity the 
power that held him at its mercy ? Of all the 
striking incidents of Caesar's life, had history 
preserved for us but this single one, it would 
have been sufficient to make us fancy all the 
rest ; at least, we should have said, " Such a 
man was born to conquest, and to empire!" 

To expatiate on Caesar's powers of oratory, 
Would only be to add one poor eulogium to the 
testimony of the first historians. Cicero, 
himself, grants him the palm of almost pre- 
eminent merit ; and seems at a loss for words 
to express his admiration of him. His voice 
was musical, his delivery energetic, his 
language chaste and rich, appropriate and 
peculiar. And it is well presumed, that, had he 
studied the art of public speaking, with as 
much industry as he studied the art of war, 
he would have been the first of orators. 
Cluintilian says, he would have been the 
only man, capable of combatting Cicero ; but, 
granting them to have been equal in ability, 
what equal contest could the timid Cicero — 
whose nerves fail him, and whose tongue 
falters, when the forum glitters with arms 
— what equal contest could he have held with 
the man, whose vigor chastised the Belgoe, 
and annihilated the Nervii, that maintained 
their ground, till they were hewn to pieces 
on the spot! 

His abilities, as a master of composition, 
were, undoubtedly, of the first order. How 
admirable is the structure of his Commen- 
taries ! what perspicuity and animation are 
there in the details! You fancy yourself 
upon the field of action J You follow the 
development of his plans, with the liveliest 
curiosity ! You look on with unwearied 
attention, as he fortifies his camp, or invests 
his enemy, or crosses the impetuous torrent ! 
You behold his legions, as they move forward, 
from different points, to the line of battle ; you 
hear the shout of the onset, and the crash of 
the encounter; and, breathless with suspense, 
mark every fluctuation of the awful tide 
of war ! 

As a politician, how consummate was his 
address ! How grand his projections ! How 
happy the execution of his measures ! He 
compels the vanquished Helvetii to rebuild 
their towns and villages ; making his enemies 
me guards, as it were, of his frontier. He 
captivates, by Ids clemency, the Arverni, and 
biiONSON. 21 



the iEdui, winning to the support of his arms, 
the strength that had been employed to over- 
power them. He governs his province with 
such equity, and wisdom, as add a milder, but 
a fairer lustre to his giory ; and, by their 
fame, prepare the Roman people for his happy 
yoke. Upon the very eve of his rupture -with 
Pompey, he sends back, on demand, the 
bonowed legions, covering with rewards the 
soldiers that may no longer serve him ; and 
whose weapons, on the morrow, may be 
turned against his breast— presenting, here, a 
noble example of his respect of right; and 
of that magnanimity, which maintains that 
gratitude should not cease, though benefits 
are discontinued. When he reigns sole 
master of the Roman world, how temperate 
is his triumph! how scrupulous his respect 
for the very forms of the laws ! He discounte- 
nances the profligacy of the patricians, and 
endeavors to preserve the virtue of the 
state, by laying wholesome restraints upon 
luxury. He encourages the arts and sciences, 
patronizes genius and talent, respects religion 
and justice, and puts in practice every means 
that can contribute to the welfare, the happi- 
ness, and the stability of the empire. 

To you, sir, who are so fully versed in the 
page of history, it must be unnecessary to 
recount the military exploits of Caesar. Why 
should I compel your attention to follow 
him, for the hundredth time, through hostile 
myriads, yielding, at every encounter, to the 
force of his invincible arms. Full often, sir, 
have your calculations hesitated to credit the 
celerity of his marches ; your belief recoiled 
at the magnitude of his operations; and your 
wonder re-perused the detail of his successive 
victories, following upon the shouts of one 
another. As a captain, he was the first of 
warriors; nor were his valor and skill more 
admirable, than his abstinence and watchful- 
ness ; his disregard of ease and his endurance 
of labor; his moderation and his mercy. 
Perhaps, indeed, this last quality forms the 
most prominent feature in his character; and 
proves, by the consequences of its excess, 
that virtue itself requires restraint, and has 
its proper bounds, which it ought not to 
exceed ; for Caesar's moderation was his ruin! 

That Caesar had a heart susceptible of 
friendship, and alive to the finest touches 
of humanity, is unquestionable. Why does 
he attempt, so often, to avert the storm of 
civil war ? Why does he pause so long upon 
the brink of the Rubicon ? Why does he 
weep when he beholds the head of his unfor- 
tunate rival ? Why does he delight in 
pardoning his enemies ; even those very men 
that had deserted him ? 

It seems as if he lived the lover of mankind, 
and fell — as the Bard expresses it — van- 
quished, not so much by the weapons, as by 
the ingratitude, of his murderers. 

If. sir, a combination of the most splendid 
talents for war, with the most sacred love of 
peace — of the most illustrious public viutue, 
with the most endearing private worth — of 
the most unyielding courage, with the most 
accessible moderation, may constitute a 
man — that title must be Caesar's ! 



322 



READINGS, RECITATIONS. 



F. M. Sir, I come to the discussion of this 
question, with something more than the 
anxiety and hesitation, with something less 
than the ardor and the hope, of a novice. 
When the man that has not proved his 
strength, is brought to the test, how much 
soever he may seem to doubt himself, he still 
feels a secret trust that he shall succeed ; and, 
even while he apparently shrinks from the 
trial, views himself, in the anticipating mirror 
of expectation, crowned with "the meed of 
applause. Besides, his very inexperience is 
a source of confidence ; for, in the eye of the 
severest judtje. he shall not merit condemna- 
tion who fails upon his first attempt. From 
what source shall I derive the hope, that I 
shall not expose myself to the contempt, 
which the man, who fails in the perlbrmauce 
of what he undertakes, deserves ? From your 
lorbearance ? Yes, sir; allow me to presume 
upon that, as a source of confidence ; allow 
me to trust, that you will not exercise a 
rigorous judgment with respect to him, who, 
if he answer not the expectation which the 
chairman of this assembly has a right to form 
of those who aspire to his notice, possesses, 
still, the humble merit of acknowledging his 
liability to that misfortune, and the prudence 
to guard you against disappointment. 

No change, sir, has taken place in the first 
appointed government of the universe. The 
operations of nature acknowledge, now, the 
same principle that they did in the beginning. 
Reason still holds her sceptre, Virtue still fills 
her throne, and the epithet of great, does not 
belong to Caesar ! 

I would lay it down, sir, as an unquestion- 
able position, that the worth of talents is to be 
estimated, only by the use we make of them. 
If w r e employ them in the cause of virtue, 
their value is great. If we employ them in 
the cause of vice, they are less than worth- 
less — they are pernicious and vile. Now, sir, 
let us examine Caesar's talents by this prin- 
ciple, and we shall find, that, neither as an 
orator, nor as a politician — neither as a warrior, 
nor as a friend — was Cassar a great man. 

If 1 were asked, " What was the first, the 
second, and the last principle of the virtuous 
mind ?" I should reply, '• It was the love of 
country." Sir, it is the love of parent, brother, 
friend ! the love of man ! the love of honor, 
virtue, and religion ! the love of every good 
and virtuous deed ! I say, sir, if I were 
asked, " What was the first, the second, and 
the last principle of the virtuous mind?" 
I should reply, " It was the love of country !" 
Without it, man is the basest of his kind! 
a selfish, cunning, narrow speculator! a 
trader in the dearest interests of his species ! 
reckless of every tie of nature, sentiment, 
affection! a Marius; a Sylla; a Crassus; a 
Cataline ; a Caesar! What, sir, was Caesar's 
oratory? How far did it prove him to be 
actuated by the love of country? I'll tell 
you, sir ; I'll show you this great Caesar in 
sjich a light and posture, as skall present no 
air of majesty, or lineament of beauty. How 
far, I say, sir, did Caesar's oratory prove him 
to be actuated by the love of country? It 
notified, for political interest, the invader 



of his domestic honor: sheltered the inceiw 
diary! abetted treason! flattered the people 
into their own undoing ! assailed the liberties 
of his country, and bawled into silence every 
virtuous patriot that struggled to uphold them.' 
He would have been a greater orator than 
Cicero ! I question the assertion ; I deny 
that it is correct; I revolt from it; I will not 
suffer it! He would have been a greater 
orator than Cicero! Well! let it pass ; .ho 
might have been a greater orator, but he 
never could have been so great a man. 
Which way soever he had directed his 
talents, the same inordinate ambition would 
have led to the same results ; and, had he 
devoted himself to the study of oratory, his 
tongue had produced the same effects as his 
sword; and equally desolated the human 
kingdom. 

But Caesar is to be admired as a politician! 
I do not pretend to define the worthy speaker's 
idea of a politician ; but I shall attempt, Mr. 
Chairman, to put you in possession of mine. 
By a politician, I understand a man who 
studies the laws of prudence and of justice, 
as they are applicable to the wise and happy 
government of a people, and the reciprocal 
obligations of states. Now, sir, how far was 
Caesar to be admired as a politician ? He 
makes war upon the innocent Spaniards, that 
his military talents may not suffer from 
inaction. This was a ready way to preserve 
the peace of his province, and to secure its 
loyalty and affection ! That he may be 
recorded as the first Roman that had' ever 
crossed the Rhine, in a hostile manner, lie 
invades the unoffending Germans, lays waste 
their territories with fire, and plunders and 
sacks the country of the Sicambri and the 
Suevi. Here was a noble policy ! that planted 
in the minds of a brave and formidable people, 
the fatal seeds of that revenge and hatred, 
which finally assisted in accomplishing the 
destruction of the Roman Empire ! In short, 
sir, Caesar's views were not of that enlarged 
nature, which could entitle him to the name 
of a great politician ; for he studied, not the 
happiness and interest of a community, but 
merely his own advancement, which he 
accomplished, by violating the laws, and 
destroying the liberties, of his country. 

That Caesar was a great conqueror, I 
do not care to dispute. His admirers are 
welcome to all the advantages that result 
from such a position. I will not subtract one 
victim from the hosts, that perished for Ids 
fame ; nor abate, by a single groan, the 
sufferings of his vanquished enemies, from his 
first great battle in Gaul, to his last victory 
under the walls of Munda ; but I will avow 
it to be my opinion, that the character of a 
great conqueror does not necessarily consti- 
tute that of a great man; nor can the recital 
of Caesar's many victories produce any other 
impression upon my mind, than what pro- 
ceeds from the contemplation of those convul- 
sions of the earth, which, in a moment, 
inundate, with ruin, the plains of fertility an<2 
the abodes of peace ; or, at one shock, convert 
whole cities into the graves oi their living 
population. 



AND DIALOGUES. 



323 



ftufc Cresar's munificence, his clemency, 
i-\n moderation, and his affectionate nature, 
restitute him a great man ! What was his 
xr nnificence, his clemency, or his moderation ? 
Tfce automaton of his ambition ! It knew no 
a«pira»ion from the Deity. It was a thing 
trom the hands of a mechanician ! an ingenious 
mockery of nature ! Its action seemed spon- 
taneous — its look argued a soul — but all the 
virtue lay in the finger of the operatoi'. He 
could possess no real munificence, moderation, 
or clemency, who ever expected his gifts to 
be doubled by return; who never abstained, 
but with a view to excess ; nor spared, but 
for the indulgence of rapacity. 

Of the same nature, sir, were his affections. 
He was, indeed, a man of exquisite artifice ; 
but the deformity of his character was too 
prominent; no dress could thoroughly hide it; 
nay, sir, the very attempt to conceal, served 
only to discover the magnitude of the dis- 
tortion. He atones to the violated and 
murdered laws, by doing homage to their 
Eames ; and expiates the massacre of thou- 
sands, by dropping a tear or two into an ocean 
of blood ! 

R. P. Sir, if it is necessary for talent and 
desert to bespeak indulgence, what shall 
encourage him. who cannot boast of talent 
and desert ? With how much diffidence did 
the gentlemen that have preceded me, present 
themselves to your notice ; how cautious were 
they to prepare you for something that might 
exercise your patience, and stand in need of 
your forbearance ; and yet, with how much 
energy, ease, and address, have they acquitted 
themselves ! I must confess, I hardly think 
it just to profess a deficiency, which we do 
not feel; it exhausts, needlessly, the stock of 
benevolence, and leaves the i*eally neces- 
sitous without assistance or relief; it is like 
a rich man's assuming the garb of a mendicant, 
and drawing upon the treasury of commisera- 
tion for those sighs, and that solace, which 
are the proper alms of penury and distress. 

For my part, sir, I shall so far profit by the 
example of those gentlemen/as not to bespeak 
your excuse, lest I should thereby excite your 
expectation; and shall, accordingly, proceed 
to consider the question, without apology, or 
further preface. 

To form an accurate idea of Caesar's 
character, it is necessary that we should 
consider the nature of the times in which he 
lived ; for the conduct of public men cannot be 
duly estimated, without a knowledge of the 
circumstances under which they have acted. 
The happiness of a community resembles the 
health of the body. As it is not always the 
same regimen that can preserve, or the same 
medicine that can restore, the latter; so, the 
former is not always to be maintained by the 
same measures, or recovered by the same 
corrections. There was a time, when kingly 
power had grown to so enormous an excess, 
as rendered its abolition necessary for the 
salvation of the Roman people. Let us 
examine whether the times, in which Coesar 
lived, did not call for, and justify, the measures 
which he adopted; whether the liberty of the 
*epublic had not degenerated into such a state 



of anarchy, as rendered it expedient, that the 
power of the empire should be vested in one 
man, whose influence and talents could 
command party, and control faction. 

The erroneous ideas that we have formed 
concerning Roman liberty, have induced uj» 
to pass a severe judg/aent on the actions of 
many an illustrious man. The admirera 
of that liberty will not expect to be told, that 
it was little better than a name. True 
liberty, sir, could never have been enjoyed by 
a people, who were the slaves of continual 
tumults and cabals ; whose magistrates were 
the mere echoes of a crowd, and among 
whom, virtue itself, had no protection from 
popular caprice, or state intrigue. By the 
term liberty, I understand a freedom from all 
responsibility, except what morality, virtue, 
and religion impose. That is the only liberty, 
which is consonant with the true interests of 
man; the only liberty, that renders his 
association with his fellows permanent and 
happy; the only liberty, that places him in 
a peaceful, honorable, and prosperous com- 
munity ; the only liberty that makes him the 
son of a land, that he would inhabit till his 
death, and the subject of a state, that he 
would defend with his property and his blood ! 
All other liberty is but a counterfeit — the 
stamp a cheat, and the metal base — turbulence, 
insolence, licentiousness, party ferment, selfish 
domination, anarchy — such anarchy as needed 
more than mortal talents to restrain it; and 
found them in a Caesar. 

I hold it to be an unquestionable position, 
that they, who duly appreciate the blessings 
of liberty, revolt as much from the idea of 
exercising, as from that of enduring, oppres- 
sion. How far this was the case with the 
Romans, you may inquire of those nations that 
surrounded them. Ask them, "What insolent 
guard paraded before their gates, and invested 
their strongholds?" They will answer, "A 
Roman legionary." Demand of them, " What 
greedy extortioner fattened by their poverty, 
and clothed himself by their nakedness?" 
They will inform you, "A Roman Quaestor." 
Inquire of them, 'What imperious stranger 
issued to them his mandates of imprisonment 
or confiscation, of banishment or death?" 
They will reply to you, " A Roman Consul." 
Question them, " What haughty conqueror 
led, through his city, their nobles and kings in 
chains, and exhibited their countrymen, by 
thousands, in gladiators' shows, for the amuse- 
ment of his fellow citizens ?" They will tell 
you, " A Roman General." Require of them, 
''What tyrants imposed the heaviest yoke? 
enforced the most rigorous exactions ? inflicted 
the most savage punishments, and showed 
the greatest gust for blood and torture ?" 
They will exclaim to you, " The Roman 
people." 

Yes, sir, that people, so jealous of what 
they called their liberties, to gratify an insa- 
tiate thirst for conquest, invaded the liberties 
of every other nation ; and on what spot 
soever they set their tyrant foot, the fair and 
happy soil of the freeman withered at their 
stamp ! But the retributive justice of Heaven 
ordained, that their rapacity should be the 



324 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



means of its own punishment. As their 
territories extended, their armies required to 
he enlarged, and their campaigns became 
protracted. Hence, the citizen lost, in the 
camp, that independence which he had been 
taught in the city: and, being long accus- 
tomed to obey, implicitly, the voice of his 
general, from having been sent forth the hope, 
returned the terror of his country. Hence, 
air, their generals forgot, in foreign parts, the 
epublican principles which they had imbibed 
•n the forum ; and, long habituated to unlimited 
command, from being despots abroad, learned 
to be traitors at home. Hence, sir, Marius 
returned the salutations of his fellow-citizens 
with the daggers of assassins ; and, with cool 
ferocity, marched to the Capitol, amidst the 
groans of his butchered countrymen, expiring 
on each side of him; hence, Sylla's bloody 
proscription, that turned Rome into shambles; 
that tore its victims from the altars of the 
gods ; that made it death for a man to shelter 
a person proscribed, though it were his son, 
his brother, or his father; and never suffered 
the executioners to take breath, till senators, 
knights, and citizens, to the number of nine 
thousand, had been inhumanly murdered! 

Such, sir, were the events that characterized 
the times in which Caesar lived. To such 
atrocities were the Roman people subject, 
while the rivalry of their leading men was 
at liberty to create divisions in the state. 
Had you, sir, lived in those times, what would 
you have called the man, that would have 
stepped forward to secure your country against 
the repetition of those horrid scenes. Would 
you not have styled him a friend to his 
country — a benefactor to the world — a great 
man — a demigod? Was not Caesar such a 
character? Observe what use he makes of 
bis power. He does not employ it to gratify 
revenge, or to awe his countrymen ; on the 
contrary, the whole of his conduct encourages 
confidence and freedom; while he reforms 
the government, and enacts the wisest laws, 
for the preservation of order, and for the 
happiness of the community. They who 
object to the character of Caesar, condemn it, 
principally, upon the score of his having 
erected himself into the sole governor of the 
republic ; but, let it be remembered, that the 
happiness of a state does not depend so much 
upon the form of its government, as upon the 
manner in which that government is adminis- 
tered. A country might be as prosperous 
and free, under what was anciently called a 
tyranny, as where the chief power was vested 
in the people, 

In short, sir, when Caesar created himself 
dictator, and thereby destroyed, virtually, the 
republican form of government, he usurped 
no more than the people did, when they 
erected themselves into a republic, and there- 
by destroyed the monarchy; and the existing 
circumstances, which rendered the act of the 
latter expedient, were not more urgent than 
those, which gave rise to the conduct of the 
former. 

Ctesar, sir, was a great man ! 

It G., Sen. Caesar, sir, was not a great 
«oa» Ho, who. for his own private views, 



disobeyed the order of the senate, from wbon 
he held his power; he, who seduced frnak 
their duty, the soldiers whom he commanded, 
in trust, for the republic ; he, who passed to* 
Rubicon, though, by that step, he knew no 
must inundate his country with blood; be. 
who plundered the public treasury, that 
he might indulge a selfish and rapacious 
ambition; he, against whom the virtuous 
Cato ranked himself, whose very mercy the 
virtuous Cato deemed a dishonor, to which 
death was preferable — was not a great man. 

"Caesar erected himself into a tyrant, that 
he might prevent a repetition of those atrocities 
which had been committed by Marius and 
Sylla!" What does the gentleman mean by 
such an assertion? Cresar pursues the same 
measures that Marius and Sylla did — Why? 
— to prevent the recurrence of the effects, 
which those measures produced! He keeps 
his eye steadfastly fixed upon them ; follows 
them in the same track ; treads in their very 
foot-prints? Why? That he may arrive at 
a different point of destination ! What flimsy 
arguments are these ! What were Sylla and 
Marius, that Caesar was not? If they were 
ambitious, was not he ambitious ? If they 
were treacherous, was not he treacherous ? 
If they rebelled, did dot he rebel? If they 
usurped, did not he usurp? If they were 
tyrants, was not he a tyrant? 

You were told, the people, from their long 
continued service in the army, gradually lost 
the spirit of independence, and that the 
calamities of the state arose from that cause. 
Granted; it follows, then, that a spirit of 
independence was necessary for the prosperity 
of the state ; and, consequently, that the way 
to put a stop to its calamities, was to revive 
that spirit. Did Caesar do this? The gentle- 
man says, he had the happiness of his country 
at heart. From his own argument, it follows, 
that this was the way to secure the happiness 
of his country. Did Caesar adopt it? Was it 
to revive, in his countrymen, the spirit of 
independence, that he audaciously stepped 
from the rank of their servant, to that of their 
master? Was it to preserve the integrity, 
which fosters that spirit, that he corrupted 
the virtue of all that came in contact with 
him, and that he dared to tempt ? Was it for 
the regeneration of the republic, that be con- 
verted it into a tyranny ? Was it to restore 
the government to its ancient health and 
soundness, that he filled all the offices of the 
state with his own creatures — the instruments 
of his usurpation ? Was it to re-animate the 
people with the sense o? their own dignity, 
that he called them Bruti and Cumasi — that 
is, beasts and fools — when they applauded 
the tribunes, for having stripped his statues 
of the royal diadems, with which his flatterers 
had dressed them? These were the acts 
of Caesar. Did they tend to restore the 
ancient virtue of the Roman people ? No, 
sir; they tended to annihilate the chance of 
its restoration ; to sink the people into a viler 
abasement ; to rob them of the very names of 
men. 

But the gentleman has brought forward • 
very curious argument, for the purpose of 



AND DIALOGUES. 



325 



prosing that the Romans were incapable 
of being a free people ; namely, that their 
magiatrates were the mere echoes of the 
people. He adverts, I suppose, to what were 
Balled the tribunes of the people — officers, t. at 
acted particularly for the plebeian orders, and 
were generally chosen from their body. But 
those magistrates, or tribunes, were, it seems, 
the mere voices of the people, and that 
circumstance rendered the people incapable 
of being free! To me, at least, this is a 
paradox. Who elected these tribunes ? The 
people. What were they? The represen- 
tatives of the people. Whose affairs did they 
manage ? The affairs of the people. To 
whom were they responsible ? The people. 
What should they have been, then, but the 
voices, or, as the gentleman has expressed it, 
the echoes of the people? But this circum- 
stance rendered the Roman people incapable 
of being free ! Did it shackle them, to have 
a control over their tribunes ? Did it enslave 
them, to have a voice in their own measures? 
Did it sell them into bondage, to have the 
disposal of their ow:i affairs? If it did, T' 
would advise you, sir, not to meddle with 
that honest man, your steward. Bid him let 
what farms he pleases ; demand what fines 
he pleases; cultivate what land he pleases; 
fell what timber he pleases ; keep what 
accounts he pleases ; and make what returns 
he pleases ; lest, by impertinently meddling 
w ith your servant, in your own afFairs, yon 
rob yourself; ruiu your estate; become 
involved in debt ; and end your days in 
prison f 

The admirers of Caesar, and, of course, of 
that form of government, which was anciently 
called a tyranny, are extremely fond of under- 
rating the character of the Romans, as a free 
people; their liberty they always represent 
to us, as something bordering on excess; ar;d, 
following the idea that extremes meet, they 
describe it as verging into that extreme, 
which naturally leads to despotism. But the 
hypothesis which is not borne out by facts, is 
good for nothing. It was not the liberty 
which the plebeians enjoyed, that was the 
cause of their final enslavement. It was the 
senate's jealousy of that liberty; the senate's 
struggles for the control of that liberty ; the 
senate's plunder of that liberty ; the senate's 
desire to annihilate that liberty ; which left it 
in the power of any crafty knave, miscalled a 
great man, who was sufficiently master of 
hypocrisy and daring, to set his foot on both 
the senate and the people, and make himself, 
as Caesar did, the tyrant of his country ! 

F. A. Mr. Chairman 

B. G. Mr. Chairman 

F. A. I believe I am in possession of the 
chair — I certainly spoke first. 

B. G. I apprehend that i" rose first. How- 
ever, the point may be easily settled. The 
Chairman will decide which of us first caught 
his attention. 

Chairman. The last speaker is certainly 
in possession of the chair. 

F. A. I acquiesce in the decision. 

B. G. When the voice of a single man, 
tea operate so instantaneously, in composing 



a difference, who would net approve of a 
rational and moderate tyranny 1 It is not. 
however, Mr. Chairman, my present object, 
to answer the arguments, which have been so 
ably brought forward, to support the negative 
of this question. I rise to submit a few 
observations upon the nature of the question 
itself. I take the liberty of stating, that I 
think it an injudiciously selected question; 
a vague and indefinite question ; a question 
which does not receive from every mind the 
same interpretation. I dare assert, Mr. Chair- 
man, that, in this very assembly, there are 
various different opinions with respect to 
what constitutes a great man. Some will tell 
yon, that greatness consists in rank ; some, 
in exploits ; some, in talerts ; some, in virtue. 
Thus, sir, the very premises of our discussion 
are unsettled and. wavering; and, from 
unsettled and wavering premises,, what can 
proceed, but indefinite and inconclusive argu- 
ments. Already do the gentlemen on the 
opposite side, endeavor to strain your question 
to the construction, that greatness essentially 
consists in goodness ; and they may quote 
Mr. Pope, and say, "'Tis phrase absurd to 
call a villain great." Others, again, may 
insist, that greatness depends upon rank, 
and exclaim, with Milton. "Worthiest, by 
being good, far more than great, or high. ' 
Where are we to rest, sir, upon this doubtful 
basis 1 — this " neither sea, nor good dry land !" 
I confess, Mr. Chairman, that, until this point 
shall have been disposed of, 1 cannot hope for 
an end to the debate ; and, therefore, propose, 
as an amendment, that, previously to the 
further discussion of the question, we shall 
determine, " what it is that constitutes a great 
man?'' 

F. A. I oppose the amendment ! I oppose 
it, because I think it unnecessary, unprece- 
dented, ill-timed, and indecorous 

F. W. I beg your pardon, Mr. Chairman, 
| but I believe there is not any motion before 
you, as the gentleman's amendment has not 
been seconded. 

R. V. Mr. Chairman, I second the amend- 
ment. | 

Chairman. The gentleman, then, will have 
the goodness to submit his amendment in 
writing. 

F. A. I apprehend, sir, that your recom- 
mendation involves a question of no small 
importance ; namely, whether the gentleman 
can write. 

B G. I thank the gentleman for his 
friendly insinuation, and beg leave to assure 
him, that if I cannot write, my deficiency is 
far less deplorable than his. who is a master 
of the art of penmanship, and makes a despi- 
cable use of it; and I dare assert, that the 
man, who makes a bad use of his tongue, will 
never use his pen to much advantage. Mr. 
Chairman, here is the motion, ready written-; 
and if the writing is not mine, the dictation 
is ; and that is more than many a man can 
say, who flourishes upon paper ! 

F. A- Sir, if the little gentleman that has 
just sat down, imagines it would give me 
any pleasure to hurt his feelings, I assure 
him he is much mistaken Mr. Chairman 



CSC 



HEADINGS, RECITATIONS, 



I object to the amendment, on two grounds ; 
first, because it is indecorous, with regard to 
you ; secondly, because it is uncalled for, 
with regard to the question. Your experience, 
sir. could never have allowed you to propose 
a question, that required revision ; and had 
you proposed such a question, it would have 
"been our duty to receive it without comment. 
The question, in point, does not require 
revision. You do not ask, if Caesar was a 
great warrior, or a great politician ; but, if he 
was a great man. Surely, sir, in these 
enlightened times, we do not inquire what it 
is that constitutes a great man? Do we not 
refuse the name of man to him, that violates 
the laws of morality and religion? And, 
if we wish to express, that a person is 
eminently virtuous, do we not use that name 
without a single epithet ? To say of any one, 
that he is a man, is to give him credit for the 
noblest endowments of the heart. To say 
that he is not a man, is to leave him destitute 
of any generous principle. The question 
cannot be viewed in any light b<it one; 
namely, as inquiring whether Ca?sar was a 
man of great virtues, and justifiable conduct? 
If he was so, oar opposition will be fruitless. 
If he was not so, those gentlemen exert their 
eloquence to little purpose. 

B. G. Sir, I hope the big gentleman that 
has just sat down, will do me the justice to 
believe, that, as I receive little satisfaction 
from being offended, so I am not sedulous to 
find out cause for offence. If the gentleman 
is serious in his apology, I ought to be — and 
I am — satisfied. If he is not serious, I assure 
him, that I pity the poverty of that man's 
pretensions, who thinks he can humiliate 
another, by reflecting upon the dimensions of 
his body — that least and lowest part of a 
man ! It is not, sir, the consideration of five 
feet, or six, that ever yet operated in achieving 
a noble action, or performing a virtuous one ; 
nor have those maxims which have instructed, 
or those imaginations which have delighted 
mankind, proceeded from how much a man 
could measure, in his stockings, the length of 
his back, or the thickness of his body. Those 
are considerations for your tailor ; and give 
me leave to assure the worthy gentleman, 
that, though he could overlook me by a full 
head and a half, it would not give him the 
advantage of one poor eighth of an inch, with 
respect to heighth or breadth of soul, or 
intellect — the proper, the real, the only measure 
of a man. With regard to my amendment, 
Mr. Chairman, I am not anxious to press it. 
That I did not propose it from any disrespectful 
feeling towards you, I entreat you to believe. 
I withdraw it, and I beg you will excuse the 
interruption it has occasioned. 

Chairman. I cannot allow the last speaker 
to withdraw his amendment, without express- 
ing my conviction, that, in proposing it, he 
was actuated solely by the desire of giving 
the question a greater degree of precision. 
I own it has been objected to, as not being so 
definite as it ought to be ; and it is probable 
that we might have presented it in a less 
objectionable shape. However, I trust that 
Foa will proceed with the discussion ; at the 



same time, keeping in mind, that the greate* 
talents, and the most brilliant achie\ ementt. 
are not sufficient to constitute a great man. 
unless his ends are virtuous and noble. 

F. A. Mr. Chairman, to you, sir, I am sure, 
I need not apologize for the freedom I have 
used, with regard to the gentleman who last 
addressed you. Believe me, sir, had I not 
known his great natural talents — had I not 
admired and valued them — I should not have 
presumed to ruffle him into resentment, or 
pique him into retort. I appeared to slight 
him, because I knew that he was above 
slight. I questioned his strength, that he 
might be tempted to exert it ; and I rejoice at 
his triumph, although it has been achieved by 
my own apparent defeat. 

But, upon what ground are we to acknow- 
ledge that Caesar was a great man? For my 
part, I am at a loss to account for the infatuation 
of those who call him so ; for his chief merit 
seems to have consisted in his talents as 
a warrior; and those talents he certainly 
employed in a cause that cannot be defended, 
upon any principle of morality or religion. 
What species of beings are we, that we laud 
to the skies, those men whose names live in 
the recollection of a field of carnage, a sacked 
town, or a stormed citadel? that we celebrate, 
at our convivial meetings, the exploits of him, 
who, in a single day, has more than trebled 
the ordinary havoc of death ? that our wives' 
and daughters weave garlands for the brow, 
whose sweat has cost the groans of widows 
and of orphans ? and that our very babes are 
taught, to twine the arms of innocence and 
purity about the knees that have been used 
to wade in blood? I say, what species of 
beings are we, that we give our praise, oui 
admiration, and our love, to that which refcoB, 
religion, interest, every consideration, should 
persuade us to condemn — to avoid — to abhor! 

I do not mean to say, that war ought never 
to be waged; there are, at times, occasion* 
when it is expedient — necessary — justifiable ; 
but who celebrates, with songs of triumph, 
those commotions of the elements, that caH 
the awful lightning into action ; that hurl tho 
inundating clouds to earth ; and send tho 
winds into the deep, to rouse its horrors? 
These things are necessary ; but we hail 
them not with shouts of exultation; we do 
not clap our hands as they pass by us ; wo 
do not throng, in crowds, to their processions, 
we shudder, as we behold them! What 
species of beings are we 1 We turn, with 
disgust, from the sight of the common execu- 
tioner, who, in his time, has despatched a 
score or two of victims, and we press to the 
heels of him, that, in a single day, has been 
the executioner of thousands ! 
' Let us not call Caesar a great man, because 
he was a great warrior; if we must admire 
him, let us seek some other warrant for our 
applauses, than what proceeds from the groans 
and writhings of humanity ! 

Let us, then, sir, first, examine his youth — 
and here we are struck with his notable 
adventure with the pirates. These free- 
booters took him, as he was sailing to Rhodes* 
they asked twenty talents for bis ransom, 



AND DIALOGUES. 



327 



and, in derision of their moderation, he 

{>romised them tifty — the onus of which act of 
iberaiity was borne by the honest Milesians, 
who raised the money by a voluntary tax. 
He spent thirty-eight days with those pirates ; 
joined in their diversions ; took his exercises 
among them ; wrote poems and orations, which 
he rehearsed to them, and which, indeed, 
pirates as they were, they did not admire ; 
and, in short, lived among them with as much 
security, ease, and honor, as if he had been in 
Rome. And what was the sequel ? His 
ransom arrives — they keep their compact — set 
him at liberty — he departs— arrives at MMetus 
— mans some vessels in the port of that 
place — returns — attacks these same pirates — 
takes the greater number of them prisoners, 
and crucifies them to a man ! 

Was this a great act in Caesar ? True ! he 
had promised to do so, when they showed no 
great relish for the songs and speeches which 
he had written among them ; but should he 
have kept his promise ? True ! they were a 
banditti ; they had deprived him of his liberty : 
but he had eaten at their board ; he had par- 
taken of their diversions ; he had slept among 
them in sacred security; he had railed at 
them without retort; threatened them, and 
only excited delight at his freedoms. Should 
tie, Mr. Chairman, have crushed them ? 
crucified them to a man ? was there not one, 
at least, he might have spared ? one bluff face, 
whose humor and confidence had pleased him 
above the rest? one hand, whose blunt 
officiousness he more particularly remem- 
bered? Oh! Mr. Chairman, do we admire 
the attachment, which a wild beast displays 
towards its attentive keeper ; do we applaud 
that sacred and general principle of nature, 
which allows kindness to obliterate the sense 
of injury; and shall we give our sanction, 
praise, and admiration, to this exploit of 
Caesar's ! 

What do we find him next about? He 
produces the images of Marius ! that man, 
who, as my worthy friend has said, returned 
the salutations of his fellow-citizens, with the 
blows of his assassins ; and marched to the 
capitol, amidst the groans of his butchered 
countrymen, expiring on each side of him. 
This was not following the steps of Marius ; 
it was justifying them; it was expatiating 
upon them, in the language of veneration and 
triumph ! it was inviting to the standard of 
his ambition, every recreant, that would sell 
the vigor of his arm to any cause, no matter 
how bloody, how unnatural, how immoral, 
how sacrilegious ! 

I shall not comment upon the circumstance, 
of his having been two hundred and fifty 
thousand pounds in debt, before he obtained 
any public office ; neither shall 1 dwell upon* 
his exhibition of three hundred and twenty 
pair of gladiators ; his diversions in the 
theatre; his processions and entertainments ; 
in which, as Plutarch says, he far outshone 
the most ambitious, that had gone before 
him ; and, by which he courted the favor of 
the vile, the witless, the sensual, and the 
venal. I shall not expatiate upon the share 
he had in Cataline's conspiracy. I shall not 



track him in his military career, by pointing 
out the ruin, which he left behind him at every 
step. I shall simply answer those gentlemen, 
who argue that Caesar usurped the supremo 
power for the public good, by examining the 
characters of the men who abetted him. 

Were your country, sir, in a state oi 
anarchy; were it distracted by the struggles 
of rival parties, drawn out, every now and 
then, in arms against one another ; and were 
you, sir, to attempt a reformation of manners, 
what qualifications would you require in the 
men whom you would associate with you, 
in such an undertaking ? What wo-uld con- 
tent you? Talent?— No! Enterprise? — No! 
Courage? — No! Reputation? — No! Virtue? 
— No ! The men whom you would select, 
should possess, not one, but all of these ; 
nor, yet, should Ileal content you. They must 
be proved men — tested men — men that had, 
again and again, passed through the ordeal 
of human temptation, without a scar, without 
a blemish, without a speck ! You would not 
select a firebrand ; you would not seek your 
seconds in the tavern, or in the brothel; you 
would not inquire out the man, who was 
oppressed with debts, contracted by licentious- 
ness, debauchery, every species of profligacy! 
Who, sir, I ask, were Caesar's seconds in this 
undertaking? Crebdnius Curio, cue of the 
most vicious and debauched young men in 
Rome ; a creature of Pompey's, bought off by 
the illustrious Caesar? Marcus Antonius, a 
creature of that creature's; a young man, so 
addicted to every kind of dissipation, that he 
had been driven from the paternal roof; the 
friend and coadjutor of that Clodius, who 
violated the mysteries of the Bona Dea, and 
drove into exile the man, that had been called 
the father of his country! Paulus JE melius, 
a patrician, a consul, a friend of Pompey's, 
bought off by the great Caesar^ with a bribe 
of fifteen hundred talents! Such, sir, were 
the abettors of Caesar. What, then, was 
Caesars object? Do we select extortioners, 
to enforce the laws of equity? Do we make 
choice of profligates, to guard the morals of 
society? Do we depute atheists, to preside 
over the rites of religion ? What, I say, was 
Caesar's object? I wili not press the answer; 
I need not press the answer; the premises 
of my argument render it unnecessary. The 
achievement of great objects does not belong 
to the vile ; or of virtuous ones, to the vicious ; 
or of religious ones, to the profane. Caesar 
did not associate such characters with him for 
the good of his country. His object was, the 
gratification of his own ambition — the attain- 
ment of supreme power ; no matter by what 
means accomplished , no matter by what 
consequences attended. He aspired to be 
the highest, above the people ! above the 
authorities! above the laws! above his country! 
and, in that seat of eminence, he was content 
to sit ; though, from the centre to the far 
horizon of his power, his eyes could con- 
template nothing but the ruin and desolation, 
by which lie had reached it! 
R. V. Mr. Chairman, I solicit your attention. 
The gentleman says, we ought not to 
rejoice at the triumphs of the warrior! la 



32S 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



this position, sir, to be received, without the 
least restriction 7 Let us detect the sophistry 
at' those who support the negative of the 
question. 

A caitiff enters your house at the dead 
hour of the night, prepared for robbery, and 

grasping the instrument of murder! You 
ear the tread of unknown feet ; you rise, 
come upon the intruder, resist him, and lay 
him prostrate ! Shall your wife shudder, 
when you approach to tell her she is safe? 
Shall your children shrink from you. when 
yyu say you have averted the danger, that 
threatened their innocent sleep ? Why should 
they not ? I'll tell you, sir: because you have 
followed the dictates of reason, of affection, 
of nature, and of God. Had you not 
been alarmed — notwithstanding this imminent 
danger, had you risen in safety, and had you 
found the ruiiian dead at your chamber door, 
without a mark of violence upon him — his 
ready weapon lying by his hand — had you 
then called your family to behold the spectacle, 
what would they all have done ? Would not 
some have fallen upon their knees ? would 
not otI-°rs have stood with uplift hands ? 
would not all have been transfixed with 
gratitude, with adoration, that their Almighty 
guard hxf stretched his arm between them 
and desti -action, and marked a limit, which 
the murde-tT should not pass, without the 
penalty of death? And is the question 
changed, because you are the instrument of 
God 1 It wculd be preposterous to say so. 
If, then, your wife, your children and family, 
shall bless the ha.^d that has been the means 
of their preservs.uoa ; if they shall weep for 
gratitude, and pre?s to you on every side, 
rejoicing in the protection of your arm ; shall 
he not hear the voce of gratulation, whose 
skill and valor have saved the lives of 
thousands ; have defended cities of mati - ons 
and children, not from unexpected destruction, 
but from destruction, again and again antici- 
pated — approaching before their eyes, and, 
.it every step, acquiring additional horror! 
Sir, there are warriors, whose victories should 
be celebrated with shouts and songs — for 
whose brows our wives and daughters should 
weave garlands, and whose kne>?s our infants 
should embrace — such warriors as guard the 
boundaries of their native land ! Though they 
have waded through blood, fair is their aspect, 
Religion is the motto of their standard, and 
Mercy glances from their sword. And had 
not Caesar been such a warrior? Who were 
the enemies over whom he triumphed, before 
his rupture with Pompey? Barbarians, that 
lived by predatory warfare ! The people, 
whose ancestors had once sacked Rome! who 
were the restless invaders of the Roman 
territory ; and, in one of their incursions, 
annihilated a consular army of a hundred and 
twenty thousand men ! a nation of robbers ! 
ignorant of the laws of arras — regardless of 
leagues and treaties — the blood-hounds of 
havoc — that destroyed for the mere gust 
of destroying. 

But, a very curious attack has been made 
upon the character of Cresar ; namely, that he 
put a few pirates to death! I quc^t.Jon if the 



worthy gentleman understands what a pirali 
of those times signified. I'robably he con- 
ceives him to have been a rough, honest, free, 
merry kind of fellow, that loved a roving life, 
and indulged himself, only now and then, in a 
little harmless plunder ! He will not expect 
to be told, that he was a man, enrolled in a 
formidable band; possessing, at times, a 
fleet of a thousand galleys; making frequent 
descents upon the Italian coasts — plundering 
villas, temples, and even towns ! carrying off 
consuls and their lictors ! tearing virgins from 
the arms of their aged parents ! murdering, 
in cold blood, the prisoners whom they had 
taken, particularly Romans; and spreading 
such terror over the seas, that no merchant 
vessel dared to put out of port, and large 
districts of the empire were threatened with 
famine! Surely, the gentleman must be 
ignorant of these facts ; otherwise, he would 
not have chosen so untenable a position for 
attack. As to Caesar's forgetting, that the 
pirate had been his host, it might, indeed, 
have been some ground for animadversion, 
had he ever remembered that he was so. 
Some gentlemen, truly, may be so much in 
love with hospitality, as to admire it, though 
it should be forced upon them with handcuffs 
and fetters; and may have so curious a taste 
for visiting, as never to go abroad, except 
upoh the requisition of a bailiff; or value an 
entertainment, unless the Kost turns the key 
upon them, and feasts them in a dungeon, 
with walls a yard thick, and windows double- 
barred. But, as such fancies cannot be called 
common, Caesar, I think, may escape without 
censure for not having indulged in them. 

And Caesar is to be condemned, because 
he produced the images of Marius, and 
revived his memory and honors ! Now, sir, 
1 conceive, a weaker ground of accusation 
could not have been selected ; for the mere 
circumstance of Marius's having been related 
to Ceesar by marriage, presents a very natural 
excuse for such a proceeding ; particularly, as 
it took place upon the death of Caesar's aunt, 
who was the wife of Marius. I fear the 
worthy gentleman does not follow Bacon's 
recommendation, and chew and digest the 
nutritious food, which historical reading pre- 
sents to the mind ; otherwise, he must have 
perceived, that Caesar's conduct, on this, 
occasion, not only admitted of excuse, but 
even challenged commendation. Let him 
return to ihe page which he has examined, 
1 fear, too superficially, and he will find, that, 
up to that time, several of Sylla's partisans — 
partisans in his murders — remained in Rome 
— lived there, in peace, in safety — perhaps in 
power ; he will find the general assertion, 
that Caesar's conduct, in having revived the 
memory of Marius, incensed the nobility ; and 
the particular assertion, that Catulus accused 
him'before the Senate — this Catulus had been 
the distinguished friend of Sylla — had been 
raised, by Sylla, to the consulship ; and, at 
Sylla's death, had preserved bis remains from 
the deserved dishonor of an ignominious 
burial ; had procured him the most magnificent 
funeral, that had ever been seen in Home, 
and caused the vestals and pontificca tit sin^ 



AND DIALOGUES. 



329 



hymns, in praise of the man, who, as it 
has been justly said, converted Rome into 
shambles, with his butcheries ! he will find 
that Caesar answered the invectives of Catulus, 
and was acquitted with high applauses ; and 
he, thereupon, attacked the remaining parti- 
sans of Sylla, brought them to trial, and having 
convicted such as had imbrued their hands in 
the blood of their fellow citizens, caused them 
to L,e condemned to death, or to perpetual 
punishment ! 

Let us, sir, do justice to the dead, though 
their interests be parted from ours, by the 
lapse of a hundred generations ; and, as this 
noble act of Caesar's followed the revival of 
his uncle's honors, let us believe, that he 
revived his uncle's honors for the purpose of 
performing this noble act — that the memory 
of Sylla's enemy, being opposed to the memory 
of Sylla, might deprive it of that power, which 
gave impunity to murder, and guarded sacri- 
lege from vengeance ! 

As to the assertion, that Caesar's aims may 
be ascertained, by examining the character 
of those whom he associated with him, it must 
go for nothing. The gentleman must recollect, 
tLat those very men had been the abettors of 
P^mpey — had been employed by Pompey — 
aye ! and with the sanction of the senate— in 
carrying on the measures which he adopted 
against Caesar. 

Our cause may rest upon one single fact: 
Rome was happy, prosperous, and honored, 
under Caesar's government; and I shall have 
the hardihood to assert, that he, whose rule 
secures the happiness, prosperity, and glory 
of a nation, deserves to rule it. 

IV. M. Sir, if you are not indebted to the 
gentleman that has just addressed you, I am 
sure the fault is not his. He has made you a 
present of a wife, and a fine thriving family, 
with all the happy etceteras. Allow me, sir, 
to pay my compliments to you, in your new 
character ; allow me to congratulate you upon 
your having escaped the bachelor's tax ; allow 
me to give you joy of a title, which becomes 
your grave deportment — which you wear with 
a peculiar grace — and which, I fervently trust, 
you will wear long ! Yet, let me hope, Mr. 
Chairman, that you will sometimes remember 
your late affectionate fraternity, now disconso- 
late at the loss they have sustained. Let 
me presume, that you will sometimes steal 
yourself away from the lullaby of the nurse, 
and the prattling of the children, to visit your 
old companions. Your condescension will not 
be unprofitable. From the contemplation of 
our desolate state, you will turn, with a 
livelier zest, to your own little domestic 
circle ; your heart will feel the prouder by 
the contrast; and, in the fullness of your joy. 
you will sigh an involuntary blessing upon the 
day, that first introduced you to the acquain- 
tance of the worthy gentleman ! 

You know, Mr. Chairman, I never prided 
myself upon my talents for speaking. You 
must, therefore, attribute my present pre- 
sumption, to the surprise which I feel, at 
learning that you managed your courtship so 
cunningly, as to bring it to a conclusion, 
• ithout the knowledge of the mistress you 



wooed, the parson that performed tie cere- 
mony, and even without your own privacy ! 

However, air, as I have risen, I shall 
venture an observation or two, upon the 
question before me. And here, Mr. Chairman, 
I feel myself tolerably bold, for I have a good 
cause, and that is more than half the battle ; 
sir, it is the whole of the battle ; it is the 
victory itself; for, though Truth should be 
repulsed a hundred times, she will be 
triumphant at last. Defeated again, and 
again, she returns unwearied, whole, and 
confident, to the charge — because she is 
immortal ! 

"As easy may you the intrenchant air 
With your keen sword impress, as make her 
bleed." 

But this kind of style does not belong to 
me, Mr. Chairman. Unfortunately, I am a 
fellow so given to jesting, that I am always 
thought to be most in jest, when I appear to 
be serious ; therefore, sir, I must talk to you 
in my own way — catching at the ideas just as 
they present themselves ; and giving them to 
you without examination, or order, or system. 
or any thing else that bespeaks a man of a 
sedate habit of thinking — confiding every 
thing, as I said before, to the goodness of my 
cause. 

And. first of all, sir, I have not the least 
idea of calling a man great, because he has 
been a great conqueror ! I do not like what 
are called your great conquerors ! your gentle- 
men that have slain their tens of thousands, 
and fought more battles than they are years 
old ! 1 care not in what cause they may have 
been engaged — that is the last consideration ; 
for the very best cause may be entrusted to 
the very worst man ; that is. with respeet to 
morals, principles, and so forth. It is not 
virtue that is requisite to form such characters ; 
it is the contempt of death, enterprise, cunning, 
skill, resolution ; and these may be found in a 
man who does not possess one single recom- 
mendation besides. How many a renowned 
general has turned his arms against the very 
cause, in whose defence he first took them 
up ? — as Caesar did — Caesar, who was com- 
missioned by his country, to subdue the Gauls, 
and then commissioned himself to subdue his 
country ! I wonder that any man, who has a 
regard for common sense, or plain honesty, 
can so far forget himself, as to justify Caesar's 
conduct in this particular. I shall state a very 
simple case to you, Mr. Chairman. You have 
a very large estate; you employ a couple of 
stewards to assist you in the management 
of it ; and you send one of them to reside in 
the most distant part of it. Well, sir ; this 
steward is a fellow of address ; he manages 
his little government very skilfully ; keeps 
your tenants in due subjection, and your 
servants in admirable order; at the same 
time, taking care to secure himself in their 
good graces, by indulgences, and gifts 
and flatteries, and every effective means of 
engaging esteem. Well, sir ; in process of 
time, you determine to dismiss this steward ; 
but you retain the other. You recal him, that 
he may give an account of himself, and recfliv* 



830 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



nis discharge. Does he ohey you ? No. 
He does not stir a step ! He sets his arms 
a-kimbo, and* tlms accosts your messenger : 
'' Mr. J aok — or Thomas, or William, or Walter 
— present my duty to my master, 4nH say, 
that when steward such-a-one receives his 
discharge, I'll accept mine. I should like to 
see your face, Mr. Chairman, upon your 
receiving his message. I fear it would require 
something more than the caresses of your 
wife, and the prattling of your infant family, 
to preserve it in its natural smoothness. 
What would you do with the rascal? I need 
not follow the supposition further. You would 
do what you could. You would have him 
fined, imprisoned, whipped, put in the pillory, 
hanged ; and yet, sir, such a man — though 
acting upon a larger scale — w(m the immortal 
Caesar. It makes one sick to hear the cause 
of such a fellow advocated ! And let me 
recal to the recollection of those gentlemen, 
the truth, that greatness cannot consist in any 
thing, that is at the disposal of chance ; or, 
rather, that exists by chance. Had not fortune 
favored Caesar in his first battles, he would 
have been recalled, perhaps, brought to trial, 
and banished ; and then he would have been 
little Caesar. 

And, now, sir, in the name of common sense, 
what mighty acts did Caesar perform, when 
he became the master of his country 1 We 
are told, that the servile senate created him 
reformer of manners — a fine reformer of 
maimers, whose own manners stood so much 
in need of reforming! Sir, they should rather 
have made him inspector of markets ; for it 
wf.s in that capacity he shone the most 
conspicuously. It is said, he limited the 
expenses of feasts, and that his officers used 
to enter the houses of the citizens, and snatch 
from off their tables any meats that were 
served up, contrary to his prohibition ! I 
should like to see a constable enter my parlor 
at dinner-time, and hand away a dish, just as 
it had been placed upon the table ! I'd cut 
his fingers off with the carving-knife! But 
the best of it is, his restrictions affected 
certain orders only. Men of rank might do as 
they pleased. They might have their litters, 
and their embroidered robes, and their jewels ; 
aye ! and, I dare say, their dishee, without 
limit of number, or of quality, or of variety. 
Give me no great CaBsar for the governor of 
my country. Give me such government, as 
feaves the management of a man's table to 
himself! Give me such cities, as have markets 
without informers ; where a cook may ride in 
a carriage, as fine as his own gilt and figured 
pastry, and a pin-maker may set you down 
to as many different dishes, as there are 
minikins in a row ! 

In fine, Mr. Chairman, my opinion of Caesar 
is this : He was a very fine fighter ; a very 
bad patriot ; a very selfish master ; and a very 
g? eat rogue! 

R. T. Sir, if my worthy friend has pre- 
sented you with a wife and family, the last 
syeaker is not behind hand with him, for he 
has given you a large estate to maintain 
them; an estate so large as to require two 
stewards to manage it! The gentleman has 



made an affecting appeal to your feelings, ia 
favor of your old companions, the bachelors 
of your acquaintance ; but, I trust, his oratory 
will not be so successful, as lo induce you to 
pay the tax for them, while this assembly 
presents so many fair and irresistible argu- 
ments in favor of the marriage state ! 

As to the gentleman's eloquence, in opposi- 
tion to Caesar's greatness, he himself tells 
you. what degree of importance you are to 
attach to his opinions, for he very ingeniously 
says, you are not to expect any thing serious 
from him; but that you must accept of undi- 
gested ideas, and rash conclusions, in the 
place of sober reflection, and logical reasoning : 
his arguments, therefore, pass for nothing, 
and do not add to the strength of his cause, 
or subtract from that of ours. 

In one instance, however, I shall comment 
upon what he has said ; because a man should 
not be frivolous, even in his jesting. I allude 
to his wit, respecting the restraints that Caesar 
laid upon luxury. Surely, the gentleman 
cannot have been so great a victim to bis 
mirth, as to have laughed away the fruit of 
his academic labors ! Surely he cannot have 
forgotten, that Caesar had proud authority for 
the policy he pursued, in the respect alluded 
to ! Surely, he remembers a few of the laws 
of Lycurgus, particularly that which prescribed 
the diet of the Spartans, and enjoined all ranks 
to eat, without distinction, in one common 
hall, where the simplest repast was provided! 
Surely, I need not remind him, that the heroes 
of Greece fared upon black broth, and drew 
their glory no less from the moderation of 
their appetite, than from the excess of their 
courage and patriotism. 

The gentleman says, it makes him sick to 
hear the cause of such a man as Caesar 
advocated ! I shall prescribe for his sickness. 
Let him take a dose of common sense, and 
use a little mental exercise — that will remove 
his sickness. I am sure it makes me sick 
to hear the arguments of Caesar's oppo- 
nents. 

Sir, he was a man of stupendous loftiness 
of mind! A man above all influence of 
fortune ! Himself, where other men would 
have been— nothing ! Observe him, when he 
is surprised by the Nervii. His soldiers 
are employed in pitching their camp. The 
ferociops enemy sallies from his concealment, 
puts the Roman cavalry to the route, and falls 
upon the foot. Every thing is alarm, confusion, 
and disorder ! Every one is doubtful what 
course to take 1 Every one, but Caesar ! He 
causes the banner to be erected — the charge 
to be sounded — the soldiers, at a distance, 
recalled — all in a moment! He runs from 
place to place — his whole frame is in action — 
his words, his looks, his motion, his gestures, 
exhort his men to remember their former 
valor ! He draws them up, and causes the 
signal to be given — all in a moment! The 
contest is doubtful and dreadful ! Two of his 
legions are entirely surrounded! He seizes 
a buckler from one of the private men j puts 
himself at the head of his broken troops ! 
darts into the thick of the battle ! rescues his 
legions, and overthrows the enemy ! 



AND DIALOGUES. 



33* 



But, if you wculJ jontemplate Caesar in a 
situation, "where be is peculiarly himself, 
observe him attempting to cross the sea in a 
fishing-bark. A storm arises; the waves and 
winds oppose his course ; the rowers, in 
despair, desist from their labor ! Caesar, from 
the time he had entered the boat, had sat in 
silence, habited in the disguise of a slave, 
unknown to the sailors or the pilot. Like a 
genius, who could command the elements, he 
stands before the master of the vessel, in his 
proper shape, and cries, "Go on boldly, my 
friend, and fear nothing! Thou earnest Caesar 
and liis fortune along with thee }" 

Really, sir, I cannot command my patience, 
when I hear those gentlemen indulge them- 
selves in invectives against a man, the 
twentieth part of whose excellence, divided 
amongst the whole of them, would make them 
heroes. 

I shall certainly vote for the affirmative of 
the question. 

IF. .S. Sir, if my worthy friend was sick, 
I hope he is now in a fair way of recovery. 
The gentleman has considered his case, and 
prescribed for him ; and he certainly could not 
have fallen into better hands. 

You must confess, Mr. Chairman, you preside 
over an assembly whose members entertain a 
very respectful sense of your merits. One 
has made you the father of a happy family. 
Another has bestowed on you a handsome 
estate. Allow me, sir, to recommend a 
physician to you j one who will be a faithful 
guardian of your health; who will watch, with 
skilful eye, the delicate complexion of your 
wife ; and regulate, with gentle and innocent 
doses, your children's habit of body. What, 
sir, is the blessing of a wife, of children, of 
fortune, if sickness spreads langor through our 
nerves, or fever through our veins ? Believe 
me, sir, the gentleman's merit does not consist 
in his diploma, only; it has its foundation in 
knowledge, in science, and experience. Nor 
is his ability confined to his mere professional 
walk; he is, as you may perceive, from the 
speech that he has just made you, a philoso- 
pher, and a moralist. Unlike Macbeth's 
physician, he 

"Cax minister to a mind diseased; 
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow; 
Raze out the written troubles of the brain, 
And, with some sweet oblivious antidote, 
Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff, 
That weighs upon the heart." 

I regret, however, Mr. Chairman, that, 
notwithstanding my eulogium, I must dissent 
from him, with regard to his admiration of 
Caesar. I cannot, I confess, behold those 
incidents he has just named, in Caesar's life, 
in the same light that he does. When Caesar 
was surprised by the Nervii, he had a great 
cause at stake, and his conduct was the 
natural re,sult of that consideration. That 
consideration made him collected, and gave 
him coolness, to employ the readiest means 
of extricating himself from the danger that 
threatened him. Besides, he was no raw 
commander ; he had subdued the Helvetians, 
the Germans, and the Belgians: nor, was his 
rescuing the two legions, that were surrounded 



by the enemy, so wonderful an exploit. Ha 
was joined, at that critical moment, by the 
force that he had left to guard his baggage , 
nor was his success more the consequence of 
his courage, in leading his men into the 
thickest of the fight, than of the enthusiasm 
of his soldiers, who followed their general, 
and whose dearest honor was, then, most 
particularly, concerned in his safety. 

Caesar, an ambitious general, attempted ta 
cross the sea in a fishing-bark ! A lover swanr 
across the Hellespont ! Caesar's fortunes ana 
life wate at stake. He had only a handful of 
men with him, and Antony was loitering, as 
he supposed, near Brundusium. Leander had 
his mistress at stake ! I will not, Mr. Chair- 
man, trespass any longer on your patience. 
I am sure you will agree with me, that grea,. 
exploits have noble ends ; and then, indeed 
they make the executor great. 

"Who wickedly is wise, or madly brave, 
Is but the more a fool— the more a knave ! 
Who noble ends, by noble means, obtains, 

, Or, failing, smiles, in exile or in chains ; 
Like good Aurelius, let him sigh, or bleed 
Like Socrates — that man is great indeed!" 

H. H. Mr. Chairman, a gentleman has 
said, that the man whose rule secures the 
happiness, prosperity, and glory of a nation 
deserves to rule it. With equal confidence. 
I assert, that the man, who obtains the rule 
of his country, by violating its laws — how 
much soever he may contribute to make 
it happy, prosperous, and great — does not 
deserve to rule it. He sets a bad example ; 
an example, the more pernicious, as his 
virtues seem to palliate the atrocity of his 
usurpation. He leaves it in the power of 
any wretch, who may possess his ambition, 
without his excellence, to quote his name, 
and use it as an authority for the commission 
of similar crime. 

No gentleman has yet presumed to say, 
that Caesar's conduct was sanctioned by the 
laws of Rome ; those laws, that guarded move 
cautiously against the approaches of tyranny, 
than against the invasion of a foreign enemy ; 
those laws, which justified any private man in 
putting to death the person, whom he could 
afterwards prove to have been guilty of 
meditating usurpation. Caesar, then, did not 
deserve to rule his country, for he violated its 
laws. A good man respects the laws of his 
country ; Caesar was not, in this view, a good 
man. Caesar was not, in this view, a great 
man ; for goodness is an essential part of 
greatness. 

Let us now examine how far he deserved 
to rule his country ; because, as it has been 
said, he secured its happiness, prosperity, 
and greatness. Sir, I do not believe that he 
accomplished any such object. To dispose of 
all offices and honors, just as his own interest, 
or fancy, directed his choice of the candidates ; 
to create new offices for the gratification of 
his favorites and creatures — making the public 
property the recompense of public delinquency; 
to degrade the venerable senate, by intro- 
ducing into it persons whose only claim to 
that "dignity was their servile devotion to 
his interests — common soldiers the sons of 



332 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



freed-meu, foreigners, and so forth. I say, 
sir, to adopt such measures as those, had 
not a tendency to secure the happiness or 
prosperity of his country. But, upon what 
ground does the gentleman assert, that Caesar 
secured the greatness of his country ? Was 
it by extending the lame of its arms ? There 
was another kind of fame, which the Roman 
people valued more than the fame of their 
arms — the fame of their liberty ! There was 
another kind of greatness, dearer to their 
pride than all the wealth, or honor, that could 
result from foreign victory; that kind of 
greatness, which gloried, not in the establish- 
ing, but in the destroying of tyranny ; which 
drove a Tarquin from the throne, and cast an 
Appius into prison; which called their proudest 
heroes from the heads of armies, and the rule 
of conquered nations, into the equal ranks of 
private citizens. 

A gentleman, speaking of Caesar's benevo- 
lent disposition, and of the reluctance with 
which he entered into the civil war, observes, 
'■ How long did he pause upon the brink of 
the Rubicon !" How came he to the brink 
of that river ! How dared he cross it ! Shall 
private men respect the boundaries of private 
property, and shall a man pay no respect to 
the boundaries of his country's rights ? How 
dared he cross that river ! Oh ! but he paused 
upon the brink! He should have perished 
npou the brink, ere he had crossed it ! Why 
did he pause ? Why does a man's heart 
palpitate, when he is on the point of com- 
mitting an unlawful deed ? Why does the 
very murderer, his victim sleeping before him, 
and his glaring eye taking the measure of the 
blow, strike wide of the mortal part ? Because 
of conscience ! 'Twas that made Caesar pause 
upon the brink of the Rubicon. Compassion ! 
What compassion ? The compassion of an 
assassin, that feels a momentary shudder, as 
his weapon begins to cut! Caesar paused 
upon the brink of the Rubicon ! What was 
the Rubicon? The boundary of Caesar's 
province. From what did it separate his 
province? From his country. Was that 
country a desert ? No ; it was cultivated and 
fertile ; rich and populous ! Its sons were 
men of genius, spirit, and geneVosity ! Its 
daughters were lovely, susceptible, and chaste ! 
Friendship was its inhabitant! Love was 
its inhabitant! Domestic affection was its 
inhabitant! Liberty was its inhabitant ! A.11 
bounded by the stream of the Rubicon ! 
What was Caesar, that stood upon the brink 
of that stream ? A traitor, bringing war and 
pestilence into the heart of that country ! No 
wonder that he paused! No wonder, if, his 
imagination wrought upon by his conscience, 
he had beheld blood, instead of water; and 
heard groans, instead of murmurs! No wonder, 
if some gorgon horror had turned him into 
stone upon the spot! But, no! he cried. 
" The die is cast !" He plunged ! he crossed ! 
find Rome was free no more ! 

Again. It has been observed, "How often 
did he attempt a reconciliation with Pompey, 
and offer terms of accommodation!" Would 
gentlemen pass tricks upon us for honest 
actione ? Examine the fact. Caesar keeps 



his army on foot ; because Pompey does se 
What entitles either of ihem to keep his army 
on foot? The commission of his country. By 
that authority they levied their armies ; by 
that authority they should disband them. 
Had Caesar that authority to keep his army 
on foot? No. Had Pompey? Yes. What 
right, then, had Caesar to keep his army on 
foot, because Pompey did so? His army! 
It was the army of his country enrolled by the 
orders of his country ; maintained by the 
treasure of his country; righting under the 
banners of his country; seduced by his 
flatteries, bis calumnies, and his bribes, to 
espouse the fortunes of a traitor ! Sir, lie 
never sincerely sought an accommodation. 
Had he wished to accomplish such an object, 
he would have adopted such measures as 
were likely to obtain it. He would have 
obeyed the order of the senate ; disbanded 
his troops ; laid down his command ; and 
appeared in Rome a private citizen. Such 
conduct would have procured him more dignity, 
more fame, more glory, than a thousand 
sceptres ; he would not have come to parley 
with the trumpet, and the standard; the 
spear, and the buckler; he would have proved 
himself to have been great in virtue ! 

Upon the same principle, his clemency must 
go for nothing. Clemency ! To attribute 
clemency to a man, is to imply that he has a 
right to be severe ; a right to punish. Caesar 
had no right to punish. His clemency ! it 
was the cl-emency of an outlaw, a pirate, a 
robber, who strips his prey, but then abstains 
from slaying him ! 

You were also told, that he paid the most 
scrupulous respect to the laws He paid the 
most scrupulous respect to the laws! he set 
his foot upon them; and, in that prostrate 
condition, mocked them with respect ! 

But, if you would form a just estimaie of 
Caesar's arms, look to his triumphs, after the 
surrender of Utica — TJtica, more honored in 
being the grave of Cato, thau Rome, in having 
been the cradle of Caesar ! 

You will read, sir. that Caesar triumphed 
four times. First, for his victory over the 
Gauls; secondly, over Egypt; thirdly, over 
Pharnaces ; lastly, over Juba, the friend of 
Cato. His first, second, and third triumphs 
were, we are told, magnificent. Before him, 
marched the princes and noble foreigners of 
the countries he had conquered ; his soldiers, 
crowned with laurels, followed him ; and the 
whole city attended with acclamations. This 
was well! the conqueror should be honored. 
His fourth triumph approaches — as magnifi- 
cent as the former ones. It does not want its 
royal captive, its soldiers crowned with 
laurels, or its flushed conqueror, to grace it ; 
nor is it less honored by the multitude of its 
spectators; but they send up no shout of 
exultation; they heave loud sighs; their 
cheeks are frequently wiped ; their eyes arc 
fixed upon one object, that engrosses all their 
senses, their thoughts, their affections. Jt is 
the statue of Cato ! carried before the victor s 
chariot! It represents him. rending open his 
wound ; and tearing out his bowels ; as he did 
in Utica, when Roman liberty \va? no morel 



AND DIALOGUES. 



331 



Now, ask if Cajsar's aim was the welfare 
of his country ? Now doubt if he was a man 
governed by a selfish ambition! Now, question 
whether he usurped, for the mere sake of 
usurping ! He is not content to triumph over 
the Gauls, the Egyptians, and Pharnaces ; lie 
must triumph over his own countrymen! He 
is not content to cause the statue of Scipio 
and Petreius to be carried before him; he 
must be graced by that of Cato ! He is not 
content with the simple effigy of Cato; he 
must exhibit that of his suicide ! He is not j 
satisfied to insult the Romans with triumphing 
over the death of liberty; they must gaze 
upon the representation of her expiring 
agonies, and mark the writhings of her last, 
fatal struggle ! 

Mr. Chairman, I confidently anticipate the 
triumph of our cause. 

F. VV. Sir, with great reluctance, I present 
myself to your notice, at this late hour. We 
bave proved, that your patience is abundant; 
we caunot presume that it is inexhaustible. 
I shall exercise it for only a few moments. 
Were our cause to be judged by the approba- 
tion which our opponents have received, it 
would appear to be lost. But that is far 
from being the case, Mr. Chairman. The 
approbation they receive, is unaccompanied 
by conviction. It is a tribute — and a merited 
one — to their eloquence, and has not any 
reference to the justice of the part they take. 
Our cause is not lost — is not in danger — does 
not apprehend danger. We are as strong as 
ever ; as able for the contest, and as confident 
of victory. We fight under the banners of 
Caesar ; and Caesar never met an open enemy, 
without subduing him. 

We grant that Cussar was a usurper ; but 
we insist, that the circumstances of the times 
justified his usurpation. We insist, that he 
became a usurper for the good of his country ; 
for the salvation of the republic ; for the 
preservation of its very existence ! What 
must have been the state of Roman liberty, 
when such men as Marius and Sylla could 
become usurpers? Monsters, against whose 
domination nature and religion reclaimed ! 

Gentlemen talk very prettily about the 
criminality of usurpation. They know it is a 
popular theme. All men are tenacious of 
their property ; and the gentlemen think, that 
if they can carry the feelings of their auditors 
along with them, in this respect, they may be 
eertain of success in every other. We have 
not any objection to their flattering themselves 
with such fancies ; but the cause of justice 
shall not be sacrificed to their gratification; 
surely, those gentlemen must be ignorant of 
the state of the republic, in those times; 
surely, they have never heard, or read, that 
massacre was the common attendant of public 
elections ; that the candidates brought their 
money, openly, to the place of election, and 
distributed it among the heads of the different 
factions; that those factions employed force 
and violence, in favor of the persons who paid 
them; and that scarce any office was dis- 

Eosed of, without being disputed, sword in 
and, and without costing the lives of many 
citizenE ! 



A gentleman very justly said, that the love 
of country is the first, the second, and the last 
principle of a virtuous mind. Now, sir, it 
appears that the Roman people sold theif 
country ! its offices ; its honors ; its liberty ; 
sold them to the highest bidder, as they would 
sell their waree, a sheep, or the quarter of an 
ox ; and that, after they had struck the 
bargain, they threw themselves into it, and 
fought manfully for the purchaser! Cicero 
and Cato lived in these times. Cicero, that 
saved Rcme from the conspiracy of Cataline. 
Cato, who would not survive the liberty of his 
country. The latter attempted to stop the 
progress of the corruption; but his efforts 
were fruitless. He could neither restrain its 
progress, nor mitigate its virulence. Thus, 
sir, the independence of the republic was 
virtually lost, before Catftar became 1 a usurper; 
and, theiefore, to say that Caesar destroyed 
the independence, or liberty of his country, 
is to assert that he destroyed a nonentity. 

It was happdy remarked, that the power 
of interfering with the tribunes, was fatal to 
the Roman people. Yes, sir, it was fataL 
The tribunes ought to have been independent 
of the people, from the moment of their 
entering on their office, to that of their laying 
it down. You were told, the people had a 
right to the direction of their own affairs. 
Yes, sir; they had a right. We do not 
dispute that. ' But it was a right, by the 
abandonment of which, they would have been 
gainers. It was a fatal right, by grasping 
which they lost every thing. It was an 
inconsistent right, for they stood as much in 
need of being protected from themselves, as 
of being protected from the nobility. Why 
does any man put his affairs into the hands of 
another, but because he cannot manage them 
so well himself? If he cannot manage them 
so well himself, why should he interfere with 
the person, to whose conduct he intrusts 
them? Because he has a right! I know he 
has ; but it is an unfortunate right, for it 
leaves it in his power to ruin himself, in spite 
of good counsel and friendship ! 

Gentlemen talk of what are called the people, 
as if they were the most enlightened part of 
the community! Are they the guardians ot 
learning? or of the arts? or of the sciences? 
Do we select counsellors from them 1 or judges ? 
or legislators? Do we inquire among them 
for rhetoricians? logicians? or philosophers? 
or, rather, do we not consider them as little 
cultivated in mind ? little regulated by judg- 
ment? much inflamed by prejudice? greatly 
subject to caprice? chiefly governed by 
passion ! Of course, sir, I speak of what are 
generally called the people, the crowd, the 
mass of the community. But you ask ine for 
a proof of the bad effects, that resulted to the 
Roman people, from the liberty they possessed, 
of legislating directly for themselves. Look, 
sir, to the proceedings of the forum! What 
they did, they undid; what they erected., 
they threw down ; they enacted laws, and 
they repealed them ; they elected patriots, 
and they betrayed them; they humbled 
tyrants, and they exalted them ! You will 
find, that the great converted the wudi© 



A34 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



power, which the people possessed, into the 
means of subjugating the people. If they 
feared a popular leader, it was only necessary 
to spread, by their emissaries, a suspicion of 
his integrity, or set the engine of corruption 
to work, upon that frailest of all fortifications, 
popular stability ; and thus, sir. they carried 
their point, humbled their honest adversaries, 
and laughed in the face of the wisest and 
most salutary laws. 

Mr. Chairman, I think that the times in 
which Cesar lived, called for, and sanctioned, 
his usurpation. I think his object was, to 
extinguish the jealousies of party, to put a 
stop to the miseries that resulted from them ; 
and 10 unite his countrymen. I think the 
divided state of the Roman people exposed 
them to the danger of a foreign yoke ; from 
which they could Y& preserved, only by 
red iving a domestic one. I think that Caesar 
was a great man ; and I conclude my trial of 
your patience, with the reply made to Brutus 
by Statilius, who had once determined to die 
in Utica with Cato; and by Favonius, an 
esteemed philosopher of those times. Those 
men were sounded by Brutus, after he had 
eutered into the conspiracy for murdering 
Caesar. The former said, he "would rather 
patiently suffer the oppressions of an arbitrary 
master, than the cruelties and disorders which 
generally attend civil dissensions." The 
latter declared, that, in his opinion, "a civil 
war was worse than the most unjust tyranny." 

J. G. Mr. Chairman, as the opener of this 
debate, I am entitled to reply; but it is a 
privilege by which I shall not profit. I leave 
cur cause to the fate it merits. But, allow 
me to remark that, how much soever we 
may disagree in our opinion of Caesar's 
character, there is a subject upon which we 
cannot have the slightest difference of senti- 
ments : namely, that j r our patience, indulgence, 
and impartiality, have been great, and claim 
our Gratitude. 



[TnE Dialogues having F. F. D. affixed, are original. 
and cop}- -righted, and taken, by express contract, 
(and for a large pecuniary consideration.) from an 
excellent work, entitled, " Familiar Dialogues and 
Popular Discussions, for Exhibition in Schools and 
Academies of either Sex, and for the Amusement 
of Social Parties :" prepared and edited by William 
B. Fowle, Esq., who has had much experience in 
getting up books for educational purposes. The 
author of this work received express permission to 
select such Dialogues as he pleased, at a stipulated 
price. He has done so ; and, from the specimens 
here given, he is justified in recommending these 
" Familiar Dialogues " to parents and teachers, as 
worthy of introduction into our schools, not only 
on account of their good qualities, but of their neat 
execution : and the price is only 37 cents. ] 

75 f. THE SCHOOL COMMITTEE.— ORIGINAL. 

Mrs. Vestry, the Minister's Wife. Mrs. Blunt, 
the Deacon's Wife. Mrs. Brief, the Lawyer's Wife. 
Mrs. Pill, the Doctor's Wife. Mas. SojjAsn, a 
Farmer's Wife. Mas. Lug, a Widow Lady, rather 
deaf. Miss Prim, an ancient Maiden, once a School- 
Mistress. Miss Snap, a satirical young Lady. Miss 
Fairman, the Candidate for the Village School. 
[All present but Miss Fairman.] 

Mrs. Vestry. Ladies, we are aJl assembled, 
and the young lady who has applied for the 



village school is in the next room. Shall 1 
invite her in ? 

Mrs. Blunt. Is she handsome ? I have no 
idee of employing any beauty, to be running 
after the boys when she should be teaching 
the children. 

Mrs. Vestry. She makes no pretensions to 
any other beauty than that of the mind, I 
believe. 

Mrs. Blunt. Let her come in, then. 

[Mrs. V. introduces Miss Fairman to Mrs, 
Brief, who takes Iter by the hand, and 
says,] 

Mrs. Brief. Allow roe to introduce you to 
Mrs. Pill, the lady of our physician — to Mrs. 
Blunt, the wife of our worthy deacon 

Mrs. Blunt. And as well entitled to be 
called lady as the best of you, let me tell 
you ! Wife ! forsooth ! 

Mrs. Brief. I plead not guilty, as we 
lawyers say, of any intentional disrespect. 
[She then, goes on introducing Miss Fairman.] 
This is Miss Prim, who may be called a fellow- 
laborer with you in the field of education. 

Miss Prim. No longer so, I desire to be 
thankful ! I left the profession before every 
body entered it. 

Miss Snap. You left it when your pupils 
left you, I have been told; but it was so long 
ago, I do not remember the circumstances. 

Miss Prim to Miss Snap. A few more 
years would be of infinite service to some 
folks. 

Mrs. Brief Miss Fairman, this is Miss 
Snap, whom you will find a ready assistant in 
cutting such twigs as you may not be able to 
bend. [She lets go Miss Fairman, whose hand 
Afrs. Vestry takes, and says,] 

Mrs. Vestry. Let me introduce you, Miss, 
to Mrs. Squash, the wife of one of our richest 
parishioners; and Mrs. Lug, who is rather 
hard of hearing, but whom you will find 
zealously interested in the cause of education. 

Mrs. Blunt. You had better take cheers, 
ladies, and set down while the examination 
goes on. [All sit.] Young woman, come here. 
I warn you that yoa will have a severe 
examination ; for we ladies have complained 
so much of former schoolma'ams, that the men 
have made us a committee to examine appli- 
cants, and suit ourselves ; and we are going 
to do the thing thoroughly. Pray, what's your 
name, young woman ? 

Miss Fairman. Susan Fairman, madam. 

Mrs. Blunt. How old are you ? 

Miss Prim. 1 object to that question, as 
an improper one. I would not tell my age to 
any one. 

Miss Snap. The young lady may not have 
the same objection. 

Miss Fairman. I shall be eighteen in a 
few days. 

Mrs. Lug. [Holding her hand up to her ear 
as a deaf person does.] Did you say you were 
eighty years old.. Miss ? 

Miss Fairman. No, madam; only eighteen. 

Mrs. Squash. Why, you have hardly left 
off tires ! Pray, can you make a punhin 
pie? 

Miss Snap. If she can't, I dare say she 
can make one of squash. 



AND DIALOGUES. 



335 



Mrs. Squash. 1 should like to have my 
questions answered b the gal herself. 

Miss Fairman. Madam, 1 never made a 
pie of the kind you name. 

Mrs. Squash,. A pretty farmer's wife you'd 
make ! 

M^iss Fairman. Madam, I applied for a 
echool, and not for a husband. 

Mrs. Lug. [Holding Iter hand to her ear.] 
What! does she want a husband! Why, 
there's Jonathan Squash, jest old enough 
for her. 

Mrs. Vestry. Ladies, let us not wander 
from the purpose of our meeting. Miss Fair- 
man, will you be good enough to inform the 
committee where you were educated, and the 
extent of your studies. 

Mrs. Blunt. Ay, ay; where were you 
edlicuted ? what do you know ? Come, I'll 
question you, myself. In what state were you 
born into the world ? 

Miss Fairman. In Massachusetts, madam. 

Mrs. Blunt. In Massafiddlestick ! 

Miss Snap. Mrs. Blunt expected you 
would say you were born in a state of sin 
and miseiy. She is a sound divine, but no 
geographer. 

Mrs. Vestry. Please to inform us, Miss 
Fairman, of such particulars as we may need 
to aid us in our judgment. 

Miss Fairman. I have had a good school 
education, ladies, but pretend to nothing more 
than is necessary to qualify me to teach the 
common branches in a common village school, 
which is all I understand yours to be. 

Miss Prim. That will never do for Smart- 
ville: we must have something more than 
common. In my day, no teacher with such 
pretensions would have dared to apply for a 
school. Have you ever studied algebra? 

Miss Fairman. Never I did not know 
that it was taught in a common village 
school. 

Miss Prim. It is not ; but it is the basis 
of a good education. No lady should be 
ignorant of algebra. 

Mrs. Lug. What ! don't the gal know 
there is such a thing as a zebra 1 [Holding 
her hand tip to her ear.] 

Miss Snap. This knowledge would be of 
more use to her than algebra. Pray, Miss 
Prim, did you ever study algebra yourself? 

Miss Prim. Yes ; I spent two weeks upon 
the delightful science, and almost made myself 
mistress of it. 

Mrs. Pill. Did you ever make use of it 
afterwards ? 

Miss Prim. I came to examine, but not to 
be catechized, madam. 

Miss Snap. When a stocking was minus 
a foot, did your algebra ever make it plus ? 

Mrs. Lug. What! dees the gal blush? 
Well, I like to see young folks blush. 

Mrs. Pill. Pray, Miss Fairman, have you 
ever learned Latin ? 

Miss Fairman No, madam ; my father did 
not think it so important for females as their 
own language ; and he never encouraged the 
•tody of it by his daughters. 

Mrs Pill. He was a dolt. Why, Latin, 
wis*, is the basis of every learned profession ; J 



and my husband, Dr. Pill, says he could not 
prescribe without it. 

Mrs. Squash. The more is the pity ; they 
only use Latin to hide the pison names of 
their nasty drugs. My husband once took it 
into his head, that every good farmer must 
know Latin, that he might know the lamed 
names of vegetables ; and so every single tree 
was called an Arbor after that; and eveiy 
squash, an lguanafalciforma-peripatctica, or 
some other such nonsense. For my part, 
I hope to hear a squash called a squash as 
long as I bear the name. 

Mrs. Vestry. Ladies, let us not forget the 
object of our meeting. Miss Fairman, may I 
ask at what school you were educated ? 

Miss Fairman. At the Female Monitorial 
School, madam, in Boston. 

Mrs. Lug. What school is that? A tory 
school! that will never do, miss; we are all 
wigs here. 

Mrs. Squash. I really believe the gal is a 
Jackson-man in disguise. 

Miss Fairman. Ladies, you mistake the 
nature as well as the name of the school. It 
is called monitorial, because the eider pupils, 
who assist the teacher, are called monitors. 

Miss Prim. Ay, ay; this is one of the 
new-fangled notions that have made instruc- 
tion so vulgar an employment, that I cannot 
endure it. When children take up the ferule, 
it is time for us [drawiug herself up] to lay it 
down. 

Mrs. Blunt. You don't intend to introduce 
any such notions here, miss ? 

Miss Fairman. I hoped, madam, that a 
judicious use of monitors would not be 
objected to. 

Mrs. Squash. What! do you mean to set 
other children to teach my darters ? 

Miss Fairman. I should like to employ 
the more advanced pupils, whosever children 
they may be, in instructing those who know 
less than themselves. 

Mrs. Brief. Then Mrs. Cowyard's brats 
may be set to teach our children, Mrs. Vestry ! 

Mrs. Vestry. I have no objection to that, 
if her children know more than ours. My 
husband says we should always be willing to 
receive instruction from any source, however 
huE)ble. 

Miss Prim. I dare say, Mr. Vestry would 
even allow that children are competent to 
teach children. Preposterous idea ! 

Mrs. Vesfry. I know he would allow it ; 
for I have often heard him say, that men are 
only children of a l&rger growth j and there 
was no more difference between his attain- 
ments and those of his parishioners, than there 
is between some children and others. He 
considers himself as a monitor amongst his 
brethren. 

Mrs. Brief. If he is only a monitor, pray 
who is our teacher ? or have not we any ? 

Mrs. Vestry. He is accustomed t > call the 
Saviour the great Teacher. But I think we 
had better ascertain how the- young lady has 
been instructed, and what she has learned, 
before we condemn her system utterly. 

Mrs. Pill. I should like to ask her ona 
question Pray, miss, if one of your pupil* 



336 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



should cut her finger badly, what would 
you do? 

Miss Snap. [Aside to Miss Fairman.] 
Tell her you would send for her husband, 
Dr. Pill, and you will make her your friend 
for ever. 

Miss Fairmaii. I should probably send her 
home, madam. 

Mrs. Blunt. Come, come, let me put her a 
serious question. Young woman, how many 
com man-de-me tits are there ? 

Miss Fairman. Ten were given by Moses, 
naadam. 

Mrs. Lug. How many did she say ? 

Miss Snap. Ten. 

Mrs. Lug. Ay, ay ; that's right ; the gal's 
right for once. 

Mrs. Blunt. Now tell me how much of the 
Primer you know by heart. What comes 
next arler "The cat doth play, And after 
slay." 

Miss Snap. [Aside to Miss F.] Tell her, 
M Whales in the sea, Great fish they be." 

Miss Fairman. I must confess my ignorance, 
madam. 

Mrs. Blunt. Young woman, T don't know 
what my husband. Deacon Blunt, would say, 
to find you so ignorant of the first principles 
of religion. 

Mks Fairman. Madam, I would respect- 
fully remark, that I have been taught to draw 
the principles of my religion from the Bible, 
and not from the Primer. 

Mrs. Blunt. Yes, that is one of Mr. Vestry's 
notions; but every body learned the Primer 
when I was a gal. I could say it backwards 
as well as forruds. 

Miss Prim. Will the young 7<z-dy be good 
enough to inform the committee whether she 
has studied botany ? 

Miss Fairman. I have, madam. 

Miss Prim. Did you study the philosophical 
part of the science, which treats of the loves 
and the language of plants? 

Miss Fairman. Wo, madam, I have only 
studied their structure and uses. 

Miss Prim. I supposed you had neglected 
the only ethereal part of the science. This 
comes of your new-fangled system, I suppose. 

Miss Fairman. No, indeed, madam. Non- 
sense can be taught by the monitorial plan, 
as well as by any other. The subjects taught 
depend upon the teacher, and not upon the 
system. 

Mrs. Blunt. I have seen enough of the gal. 
She will never do for me. She don't even 
know her Primer. [She dashes out.] 

Miss Snap. " The eagle's flight Is out of 
sight." 

Mrs. Brief. Mr. Brief will never suffer his 
children to be taught by Mrs. Cowyard's 
brals. [Exit.] 

Miss Snap. " Out, out, Brief candle !" 

Mrs. Pill. I cannot swallow her ignorance 
of Latin. [Exit.] 

Miss Snap. Because she could not swallow 
your pilis, I suppose. 

Mrs. Squash. I cannot vote for a miss so 
young that she cannot make a punk in pie. 
I thought, at first, she might do for my son 
Jonathan. [Aside.] [Exit.] 



Miss Snap. So, because she can't cook i 

punhiti, she is not allowed to become a 
Squash ! 

Miss Prim. I must withhold my appro- 
bation from one who has no soul for the loves 
and language of flowers, and who has never 
studied algebra. 

Miss Snap. And whose charms being plus, 
wruld render yours a negative quantity. 

Miss Prim. My children— I mean my 
neighbor's, for I desire to be thankful that I 
have none of the nasty things — shall never 
go to a monitorial school with my consent. 
Monitorial, indeed ! [Exit.] 

Mrs. Lug. Who did she say was dead? 

Miss Snap. Your tories, I suppose. 

Mrs. Lng. Well, I am sorry for them 
I had rather they had repented; but they 
shan't get foothold in our village, while I am 
on the committee. Good bye. [Exit.] 

Miss Snap. A good riddance upon them 
all ! Now, Miss Fairman. let me congratulate 
you upon escaping from such patrons. 

Mrs. Vestry. Give me your hand, my dear. 
You have borne the trial modestly and 
patiently. My husband has been applied to 
for a preceptress of an academy, and I am 
sure, that, after he has heard the result of 
this meeting, he will confer the situation 
upon my young friend. Come, let us find 
him. (f. f. d.) 

752. CITY FINISHING.— ORIGINAL. 

Miss Puff. How vulgar you will appear in 
the city, Miss Homespun ! It is a pity that 
you have not the advantage of a quarter's 
instruction in the city, as I have had. 

Miss Homespun. I have no fears on my 
own account. I shall make no pretensions to 
supei-ior refinement, and, therefore, shall not 
risk any failure. 

Miss Puff. That will not do, my dear, in 
the city. If one has not a certain jinnissy 
<juar. she will be considered as savage as 
if she had been brought up on a dissolute 
oiland. 

Miss Homespun. It may be so; but such 
treatment would only lead me to pity them, 
a.nd not to undervalue myself. I do not 
believe that unassuming manners, and unpre- 
tending conversation, are in so much dangei 
of being insulted. 

Miss Puff. I shall endeavor to spare you 
as much as I can ; but one who has always 
been in the country, can have no superstition 
how much she is exposed to be quizzed by 
the knowing ones of the city. My quarter's 
education did the business for me. 

Miss Homespun. You almost alarm me, 
Miss Puff; but I will not believe, until I see, 
that the superior education of the city ladies 
unfits them for making a proper discrimination 
between plain sense and nonsense. I expect 
a lady from the city to spend a few days 
with me. 

Miss Puff. When is she a coming? 

Miss Homespun. That may be she at the 
door. 

Miss Puff. Well, now, my dear, be careful 
and do not expose yourself. Put a little o» 
my o dick-alone on your dress. 



AND DIALOGUES. 



337 



Miss Homespun. I never use any per- 
fumery, Mi»s Puff, and have been accustomed to 
think that perfect neatness needs no such aids. 

Miss Puff'. Oh, my dear, no person of 
fashion would think of using less than a. point 
a day. 

Miss Homespun. I shall make it a. point to 
avoid such folly, even if it costs me eternal 
banishment from the city. 
Miss Puff. Your obstinacy will bring down 
some tremenduous mortification upon your 
head. 

Misa Homespun. I will risk it. But there 
comes my city friend; I shall hope to profit 
by her advice, before I visit the city. 

Miss Puff. My dear, there is nothing like 
spending a whole quarter at some city 
seminary, if you would not have your country 
airs preceptib/e. 

Miss Homespun. It is too late for me to 
go to school again, and therefore I shall be 
contented to observe what I may, without 
exposing my ignorance. 

Miss Puff. You may as well expect to 
make a muif out of a leg of beacon. 

Miss Homespun. It is not such an impossi- 
bility. I trust. 

Miss Puff. My dear, your disposition is so 
ingenious and candid, that you will be the 
dupe of every one you meet. What a pity 
fchat you had not gone one quarter with me to 
that city seminary ! It would have taught 
you the right use of language, at least ; for, as 
1 said before, you can have no superstition 
how precise the city ladies are in this respect. 
Now, while I should be conversing fluently 
with them, you would be standing mute as a 
statute. But your friend is coming; I shall 
retire. 

Miss Homespun. You need not withdraw. 

Miss Puff. Yes, my dear, I do not wish to 
aSbrd your friend any opportunity for compari- 
son, considering how poor a chance you have 
had ; for you know the proverb says, " com- 
parisons are odorous." You must have courage, 
now, and make some pretty remarks on the 
•eason, the foilage of the trees, and other 
things that go to constitute pastural felicity. 
Now, do, my dear, take my advice. Good 
bye ; farewell ; adieu ! 

Miss Homespun. Poor girl! she means 
well; but if she would make a convert of 
me, she will be disappointed. True gentility, 
and real civilization, cannot approve of such 
ridiculous notions as she has adopted. I shall 
not use more than half a point of Cologne 
water, if the city belles do banish me to a 
dissolute oiland. (F. F. D.) 

T53. THE GR*>IRON — THE CAPTAIN, PATRICK, AND 
THE FRENCHMAN. 

Patrick. Well, captain, whereabouts in 
the wide world are we ? Is it Roosia, 
Proosia, or the Jarmant oceant ? 

Captain. Tut, you fool ; it's France. 

Patrick. Tare an ouns ! do you tell me so? 
and how do you know it's France, captain 
dear? 

Captain. Because we were on the coast 
of the Bay of Biscay, when the vessel was 
wrecked. BRONSON 22 



Patrick. Throth, I was thinkin' so myself 
And now, captain jewel, it is I that wishes 
we had a gi-idiron. 

Captain. Why, Patrick, what puts the 
notion of a gridiron into your head ? 

Patrick. Becase I'm starving with hunger, 
captain dear. 

Captain. Surely you do not intend to eat 
a gridiron, do you ? 

Patrick. Ate a gridiron! bad luck to it! 
no. But if we had a gridiron, we could dress 
a beef-stake. 

Captain. Yes ; but where's the beef-steak, 
Patrick? 

Patrick. Sure, couldn't we cut it off the 
pork? 

Captain. I never thought of that. You are 
a clever fellow, Patrick. (Laughing.) 

Patrick. There's many a thrue word said 
in a joke, captain. And now, if you will go 
and get the bit of pork that we saved from 
the rack, I'll go to the house there beyant, 
and ax some of them to lind me the loan of a 
gridiron. 

' Patrick. But, Patrick, this is France, and 
they are all foreigners here. 

Patrick. Well, and how do you know but 
I am as good a furriner myself as any o' 
them ? 

Captain. What do you mean, Patrick? 

Patrick. Parley voo frongsay ? 

Captain. Oh, you understand French, 
then, is it? 

Patrick. Throth, you may say that, captain 
dear. 

Captain. Well, Patrick, success to you. 
Be civil to the foreigners, and I will be back 
with the pork in a minute. [He goes out.] 

Patrick Ay, sure enough I'll be civil to 
them ; for the Frinch are always mighty 
p'lite intirely, and I'll show them I know 
what good manners is. Indade, and here 
comes munseer himself, quite convaynient. 
[As the Frenchman enters, Patrick takes off 
his hat. and, making a loto bow, says,] God 
save you, sir, and al-1 your children. I beg 
your pardon for the liberty I take, but it's only 
being in disthress in regard of aleing, that 1 
make bowld to trouble ye ; and if ye could 
lind me the loan of a gridiron, I'd be intirely 
obleeged to ye. 

Frenchman. [Staring at him.] Commentl 

Patrick. Indade its thrue for you. I'm 
fathered to paces, and God knows I look 
quare enough ; but its by rason of the storm, 
that dhruv us ashore jist here, and we're aU 
starvin'. 

Frenchman. Je m'y t [pronounced 

je meet.] 

Patrick. Oh ! not at all ! by no manes f 
we have plenty of mate ourselves, and we'll 
dhress it, if you'd be plased jist to lind as 
the loan of a gridiron, sir. [Making a low 
bow.] 

Frenchman. [ Staring at him, but not under 
standing a word.] 

Patrick. I beg pardon, sir; but may be 
I'm undher a mistake, but I thought I was in 
France, sir. An't you all furriners heref 
Parley voo frongsay \ 
Frenchman. Oui, monsieur. 



338 



READINGS, RECITATI0N3, 



Patrick. Tbev, vTOmld yoa \\n<\ me the loan 
of a gridiron, if you plase .' [The Frenchman 
ttares more than ever, as if anxious to ttmier- 

Hand.] 1 know it's a liberty I take, sir; 

but it's only in the regard of beio' cast away ; 
and if you plase, sir, parley vc o frongsay ? 

Frenchman. Out, monsieur, oui. 

Pa! rick. Then would you lint! me the loan 
of a gridiron, sir, and you'll obleege me. 

Frenchman. Monsieur, pardon, monsieur — 

Pattirk. [Angri-'y] By my sowl, if it 
•was \ou was in disthress, and if it was to 
owld Ireland you came, it's not only the 
gridiron they'd give you, if you axed it, but 
something to put on it too, and a dhrop of 
dhriuk into the bargain. Can't you understand 
your own language? [Very slowly,} Parley 
— voo — frongsay — muns eer ? 

Frenchman. Oui, monsieur; oui, monsieur, 
mais 

Patrick. Then lind me the loan of a grid- 
iron, I say, and bad scram to you. 

Frenchman. [Boning- and scraping.] Mon- 
sieur, je ne l'entend 

Patrick. Phoo ! the divil sweep yourself 
and your long longs! I don't want a tongs 
at all at all. Can't you listen to rason ? 

Frenchman. Oui, oui, monsieur; certaine- 
ment, mais 

Patrick. Then lind me the loan of a 
gridiron, and howld your prate. [The French- 
man shakes his head, as if to say he did not 
understand; but Patrick, thinking he meant 
it as a refusal, says, in a passion,] Bad 
cess to the likes o' you! Throth, if you were 
in my counthry, it's not that a- way they'd use 
you. The curse o' the crows on you, you 
owld sinner! — The divil another word I'll say 
to yen. f The Frenchman puts his hand on his 
heart, and tries to express compassion in his 
countenance] Well, I'll give you one chance 
more, you owld thafe! Are you a Christhian 
at all at all? Are you a farriner, that all the 
world calls so p'lite ? Bad luck to you! do 
you understand your mother tongue ? Parley 
voo frongsay? [Very loud] Parley voo 
frongsay 1 

Frenchman. Oui, monsieur, oui, oui. 

Patrick. Then, thunder and turf! will you 
lind me the loan of a gridiron ? [ The French- 
man shakes his head, as if he did not 
understand ; and Pat. says, vehemently,] The 
carse of the hungry be on you, you owld 
negarly villain ! the back of my hand and the 
sowl of my fut to you ! May you want a 
gridiron yourself, yet ! and wherever I go, 
it's high and low, rich and poof, shall hear 
of it, and be hanged to you ! (f. f. d.) 

754. Irish courtesy.— stranger and 
o'callaghan. 

Stranger. I have lost my way, good 
friend. Can you assist me in finding it ? 

O'Callaghan. Assist you in finding it, 
ia't? Ay, by my faith and troth, and that I 
will, if it was to the world's end, and 
farther too. 

Stranger. I wish to return, by the shortest 
rout?, to the Black Rock. 

O'Callaghan. Jnlade, and you will, so 
fplase your Honor's honor — and O'Callaghan's I 



I own self will show you the way, and then yoa 
can't miss it, you know. 

St.ram.er. 1 would not give you so mock 
trouble, Mr. O'Callaghan. 

O'Co/taghan. It is never a trouble, M 
plase your honor, for an Irishman to do hii 
duty. [Sewing.] 

Stranger. Whither do you travel, friend? 

O'Callaghan. To Dublin, so plase your 
honor. Sure, all the world knows that Judy 
O'Flannaghan will be married to-morrow, 
God willing, to Pat Ryan ; and Pat, you 
know, is my own foster-brother— because 
why ? — we had but one nurse betwane us, and 
that was my own mother; but she died one 
day — the Lord rest her sir ate soul! — and left 
me an orphan ; for my father married again, 
and his new wife was the divil' s own child, 
and did nothing but bate me from morning 
till night. Och! why did not I die before 
I was born to see that day ? for, by St. 
Patrick, the woman's heart was as cold as a 
hailstone 

Stranger. But what reason could she have 
for treating you so unmercifully ? 

O'Callaghan. Ah, your honor, and sure 
enough, there are always rasons as plenty as 
potatoes, for being hard hearted. And I was 
no bigger than a dumpling at the time, so I 
could not help myself, and my father did not 
care to help me ; and so I hopped the twig, 
and parted old Nick's darling. Och! may the 
divil find her whoever she goes ! But here 
1 am, alive and lapeing, and going to see Pat 
married ; and faith, to do him justice, he's an 
honest lad as any within ten miles of us, and 
no disparagement neither; and I love Pat, 
and I love" all his family — ay, by my sowl 
do I, every mother's skin of them — and by the 
same token, I have travelled many a long 
mile to be present at his wedding. 

Stranger. Your miles in Ireland are much 
longer than ours, 1 believe. 

O'Callaghan Jndade, and you may belave 
that, your honor — because why ? — St. Patrick 
measured them in his coach, you know 
Och! by the powers! the time has been — but 
'tis no matter — the divil a copper now belongs 
to the family. But, as 1 was saying, the day 
has been — ay, by my troth, and the night, 
too — when the O'Callaghans — good luck, to 
them!— held their heads up as high as the 
best; and though I have not a rod of land 
belonging to me, but what I hire, I love my 
country, and would halve my last potatoe with 
every poor cratur that has none. 

Stranger. Pray, how does the bride 
appear ? 

O'Callaghan. Och! by my soul, your 
honor, she's a note article ; and then she 
will be rigged out as gay as a lark, and as 
fine as a pacock — because why ? — she has a 
great lady for her godmother — long life and 
success to her! — who has given Judy two 
milch cows, and five pounds in hard money. 
And Pat has taken as dacent apartments as 
any in Dublin — a nate, comely parlor, as you'd 
wish to see, just six fate under ground, with 
a nice, beautiful ladther to go down — and al 
so cornplate, and gentale, and comfortable, at 
a body may say 



AND DIALOGUES. 



<>39 



St: ■anger. Nothing like comfort, Mr. 
O'Callaghan. 

O'Callaghan. Faith, and you may say 
that, your honor. [Rubbing his hands.] 
Comfort is comfort, says I to Mrs. O'Callaghan, 
when we are all sated so cleverly around a 
great big turf fire, as merry as grigs, with the 
dear little grunters snoring so swalely in the 
cornei*, defying wind and weather, with a dry 
th itch, and a sound conscience to go to slape 
upon 

Stranger. A good conscience makes a 
soft pillow. 

O'Callaghan. Och ! jewel, sure it is not 
the best beds that makes the best slapers ; 
for there's Cathleen and myself can slape like 
two great big tops ; and our bed is none 
of the softest — because why ? — we slape on 
the ground, and have no bed at all at all. 

Stranger. It is a pity, my honest fellow, 
that you should ever want one. There, 
[giving him a guinea?^ Good bye, Mr. 
O'Callaghan. 

O'Callaghan. I'll drink your honor's health, 
that I will! and may God and the blessed 
Virgin bless you and yours, as long as grass 
grows and water runs ! (F. f. d.) 

755. PEDANTRY 

Di«it, a mathematical Pedant. Sesquipedalia, 
a Linguist and Philosopher. Trill, a musical 
Psdant. Drone, a Servant. 

Digit. Is your master at home, sir ? 

Drone. [Speaking very slowly.] Can't say ; 
s'pose he is,- indeed, I'm sure he is, or was 
just now. 

Digit. Why, I could solve an equation, 
while you are answering a question of five 
TM>rds — I mean if the unknown terms were 
all on one side of the equation. Can I see 
him? 

Very likely, sir. I will inform him 



Drone, 
that Mr. 

Digit. 

Drone. 
him. 

Digit. 



Digit, Digit. 

Oh, Mr. Digy-Digy wishes to see 
[Exit Drone.] 

[Alone.] That fellow is certainly a 
negative quantity. He is minus common 
sense. If this Mr. Morrell is the man I take 
him to be, he cannot but patronize my talents. 
Should he not, I don't know how I shall obtain 
a new coat. I have worn this ever since I 
began to write my theory of sines, and my 
elbows have so often formed tangents with 
the surface of my table, that a new coat is 
very necessary. But here comes Mr. Morrell. 
[Enter Sesquipedalia.] Sir, [botcing low,] 
I am your most mathematical servant. I am 
sorry, 6ir, to give you this trouble ; but an 
affair of consequence — [pulling the rags over 
his elbows] — an affair of consequence, as your 

servant informed you 

Sesquipedtdia. Servn s non est mihi, domine ; 
that is, I have no servant, sir. I presume you 

have erred in your calculation ; and 

Digit. No, sir. The calculations I am 
about to present you, are founded on the 
uiost correct theorems of Euclid. You may 
examine them, if you please. They are con- 
tained in this small manuscript. [Producing 
<s folio.] 



Sesquipedalia. Sir, you have bestowed a 
degree of interruption upon my observations. 
I was about, or, according to the Latins, 
futurus sum, to give you a little inlbrmaiion 
concerning the luminary who appears to have 
deceived your vision. My name, sir, is TulJiua 
Maro Titus Crispus Sesquipedalia, by pro- 
fession a linguist and philosopher. The most 
abstruse points in phjsics or metaphysics, 
to me, are as transparent as ether, i have 
come to this house for the purpose of obtaining 
the patronage of a gentleman who befriends 
all the literati. Now, sir, perhaps I have 
produced conviction in mente lua ; that is, in 
your mind, that your calculation was erroneous. 

Digit. Yes, sir, your person was mistaken ; 
but my calculations, T maintain, are correct, to 
the tenth place of a circulating decimal. 

Sesquipedalia. But, what is the subject 
of your manuscript ? Have you discussed the 
infinite divisibility of matter ? 

Digit. No, sir, we cannot reckon infinity ; 
and 1 have nothing to do with subjects that 
dannot be reckoned. 

Sesquipedalia. Why, I can reckon about 
it. I reckon it is divisible ad infinitum. But 
perhaps your work is upon the materiality of 
light ; and if so, which side of the question do 
you espouse ? 

Digit. Oh, sir, 1 think it quite immaterial. 

Sesquipedalia. What! light immaterial! 
Do you say light is immaterial ? 

Digit. No, I say it is quite immaterial 
which side of the question I espouse. I have 
nothing to do with it. And, besides, I am a 
bachelor, and do not mean to espouse any thing 
at present. 

Sesquipedalia. Do you write upon the 
attraction of cohesion ? You know matter has 
the properties of attraction and repulsion. 

Digit. I care nothing about matter, so I 
can find enough for mathematical demon- 
stration. 

Sesquipedalia. I cannot conceive what 
you have written upon, then. Oh, it must be 
the centripetal and centrifugal motions. 

Digit. [Peevishly.] No, no. 1 wish Mr. 
Morrell would come. Sir, 1 have no motion^ 
but such as I can make with my pencil upon 
my slate, thus, [figuring upon his hand :] 
Six, minus four, plus two, equal eight, minus 
six, plus two. There, those are my motions. 

Sesquipedalia Oh, I perceive you grovel 
in the depths of arithmetic ! I suppose you 
never soared into the regions of philosophy. 
You never thought of the vacuum which has 
so long filled the heads of philosophers ? 

Digit. Vacuum\ [Putting his hand to his 
forehead.] Let me think. 

Sesquipedalia. Ha ! what! have you got it 
sub manu ; that is, under your hand ! Ha ! 
ha ! ha ! 

Digit. Eh ! under my hand 1 what do you 
mean, sir? thftf; my head is a vacuum? 
Would you insult me, sir ? insult Archimedes 
Digit ? Why, sir, I'll cipher you into infinite 
' divisibtl.ly. I'll set you on an upright cone. 
I'll give you a centrifugal motion out of tho 

I' window, sir! I'll tear you up by the roots 
and scatter your solid contents to the wind* 
sir ! 



340 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



Sesquipedalia. Da rem am ; that is ; pardon 
me. It was merely a lapsus lingua:; that 
is 

Digit. Well, sir, I am not fond of lapsus 
linuuies at all, sir. Howe>»er, if you did not 
mean to offend, I accept your apology. I wish 
Mr. Morrell would come. 

Sesquipedalia. But, sir, is your work upon 
mathematics ? 

Digit. Yes, sir. In this manuscript I have 
endeavored to elucidate the squaring of the 
circle. 

Sesquipedalia. But, sir, a square circle is 
a contradiction in terms. You cannot make 
one. 

Digit. I perceive you are a novice in this 
sublime science. The object is, to find a 
square which shall be equal to a given circle, 
which I have done, by a rule drawn from the 
radii of the circle and tha diagonal of the 
square. And, by my rule, the area of the 
square will equal the area of the circle. 

Sesquipedalia. Your terms are to me 
incomprehensible. Diagonal is derived from 
the Greek — di-a and go-ne, that is, " through 
the corner." But I don't see what it has to 
do with a circle ; for, if I understand aright, 
a circle, like a sphere, has no corners. 

Digit. You appear to be very ignorant of 
the science of numbers. Your life must be 
very insipidly spent in poring over philosophy 
»ud* the dead languages. You never tasted, 
as I have, the pleasure arising from the 
investigation of an insoluble problem, or the 
discovery of a new rule in quadratic equa- 
tions. 

Sesquipedalia. Po ! po ! [ Turns round in 
disgust, and hits Digit with his cane.] 

Digit, Oh, you villain ! 

Sesquipedalia. I wish, sir 

Digit. And so do 1 wish, sir, that that 
cane was raised to the fourth power, and laid 
over your head as many times as there are 
units in a thousand. Oh ! oh! 

Sesquipedalia. Did my cane come in 
contact with the sphere of repulsion around 

your shin? I must confess, sir [Enter 

Trill.] Oh, here is Mr. Morrell. Salve, 
domine ! sir, your most obedient. 

Trill. Which of you, gentlemen, is Mr. 
Morrell ? 

Sesquipedalia. Oh, neither, sir. I took 
yov for that gentleman. 

Trill. No, sir, I am a teacher of music. 
Flute, harp, viol, violin, violoncello,* organ, or 
any thing of the kind, any instrument you can 
inflation. I have just been displaying my 
powers at a concert, and come recommended 
to the patronage of Mr. Morrell. 

Sesquipedalia. For the same purpose are 
that gentleman and myself here. 

Digit. [Still rubbing his shin.] Oh ! oh! 
Trill. H as the gentleman the gout ? I have 
heard of its being cured by music. Shall I 
sing you a tune ? Hem ! Hem ! Faw 

Digit. No, no, I want none of your tunes. 
I'd make that philosopher sing though, and 
«Jance too, if he hadn't made a vulgar fraction 
of my leg. 



•Pronounced V£-o-lox-chel-q. 



Sesquipedalia. In rcrilatc ; that :«, b 
truth, it happened forte ; that is, by chance. 

Trill. [Talking to himself .] If B be fiat, 
me is in E. 

Digit. Ay, sir, this is only an integral part 
of your conduct, ever since you came into thii 
house. You have continued to multiply youi 
insults in the abstract ratio of a geometrical 
progressjpn, and at last have proceeded to 
violence. The dignity of Archimedes Digit 
never experienced such a reduction descend- 
ing, before. 

TrilL [ To himself] Twice faw, sol, law, 
and then comes me again. 

Digit. If Mr. Morrell does not admit ma 
soon, I'll leave the house, while my head is 
on my shoulders. 

Tnll. Gentlemen, you neither keep tima 
nor chord. But if you can sing, we may carry 
a trio before we go. 

Sesquipedalia. Can you sing an ode of 
Horace or Anacreon. I should like to hear 
one of them. 

pigit. I had rather hear you sing a demon- 
stration of the forty-seventh proposition, iirst 
book. 

Trill. I never heard of those composers, 
sir ; where do they belong ? 

Sesquipedalia. They did belong to Italy 
and Greece. 

Trill. Ah ! Italy ! there are our best 
masters — Correlli, Morrelli, and Fuseli. Can 
you favor me with their compositions? 

Sesquipedalia. Oh, yes, if you have a taste 
that way, I can furnish you with them, and 
with Virgil, Sallust, Cicero, Caesar, Q,uintilian ; 
and I have an old Greek Lexicon that I can 
spare. 

Trill. Ad libitum, my dear sir; they will 
make a handsome addition to my musical 
library. 

Digit. But, sir, what pretensions have you 
to the patronage of Mr. Morrell? I don't 
believe you can square the circle. 

Sesquipedalia. Nor prove the infinite 
divisibility of matter. 

Trill. Pretensions, sir! I have gained a 
victory over the great Tantamavrarra, the new 
opera singer, who pretended to vie with me. 
'Twas in the symphony of Handel's Oratorio 
of Saul, where, you know, every thing depends 
upon the tempo giuslo, aad where the prime 
should proceed in smorzando, and the secondo 
in agitato. But he was on the third leger line, 
I was an octave below, when, with a sudden 
appoggiatura, I rose to D in ait., and con* 
quered him. 

[Enter Drone.] 

Drone. My master says how he will wait 
on you, gentlemen. 

Digit. What is your name, sir ? 

Droue. Drone, at your service. 

Digit. No. no; you need not drone at my 
service. A very applicable name, however. 

Sesquipedalia. Drone? That is derived 
from the Greek draon, flying or moving 
swiftly. 

Trill. He rather seems to move in audan/j 
measure ; that is, to the tune of Old Hundred 

Droue. Very likely, gentlemen. 



AND DIALOGUES. 



341 



Digit. Well, as I came first, I will enter 
Brat 

Sesqnipedalia. Risht. You shall be the 
antecedent, I the subsequent, and Mr. Trill 
the consequent. 

Trill. Right. I was always a man of 
3onsequence. Faw, sol, law; Faw, sol, &c. &c 
[Singing as he goes out.] (f. f. d.) 

756. PRECISENESS.— MR. AND MSS. QUIDDLB. 

Mr. Quiddle. My dear, notwithstanding all 
I have said, Molly has boiled one potatoe 
more than I directed to-day. 

Mrs. Quiddle. Mr. Quiddle should have 
attended to this great concern himself. 

Mr. Quiddle. No, my dear, it is your duty 
to do so ; and though it pains me to complain 
of any neglect of yours, a sense of duty 
compels me to say, that the last quarter of a 
pound of tea has disappeared much too 
rapidly. There were twenty-five thimblefuls, 
and we have made tea but twenty-four times, 
by my memorandum. 

Mrs. Quiddle. Indeed, Mr. Quiddle, you 
calculate very closely. Perhaps Molly's thimble 
is larger than yours ; but 1 do not think the 
matter worth a moment's consideration. 

Mr. Quiddle. Aye,' there lies your error. 
No man can be exact in great things who does 
not attend to trifles. Atoms constitute worlds, 
my dear, and give a form to them. And, now 
I think of it, you gave Joseph seven spoonfuls 
of soup to-day, when, you know, I never allow 
him but six. ' 

Mrs. Quiddle. He was very hungry, and 
one spoonful could not hurt him. ' 

Mr. Quiddle. That is a fatal mistake, my 
dear. 

Mrs. Quiddle. "Why, how do you know so 
exactly how many spoonfuls our boy can 
contain ? 

Mr. Quiddle. My father never allowed his 
children but six, or six and a half, at the 
utmost. 

Mrs. Quiddle. And your stomach is to 
regulate Joseph's ! Well, poor boy ! I do not 
blame him for disliking you. 

Mr. Quiddle. The welfare of my child must 
be consulted, even if at the expense of his 
affection. Now, I do not love to find fault, 
but I observed that he did not change 
his shoes this morning. 1 never wore the 
same shoe on one foot two days in succes- 
sion, in my life ; it runs them down to the 
heel. 

Mrs. Quiddle. I fear that your precision 
will so disgust Joseph, that he will rush to the 
other extreme ; for I have often noticed, that 
children who are denied all reasonable indul- 
gences are apt to become licentious. 

Mr. Quiddle. Joseph must be looked after. 
I intend, immediately, to send him to another 
school. 

Mrs. Quiddle. Why so, my deal- ? I thought 
Mr. B. was an excellent teacher. 

Mr. Quiddle. He may be so, but he is not 
particular enough for our Joseph. Why, I 
understand, he allows his pupils a recess of 
ten minutes, and even plays with them himself! 
My master allowed but fi ve minutes' recess, 
ind would as soon have died as stoop t& vlav 



with us. Besides, I think he does iiot shape 
the tail of his G's as I should. 

Mrs. Quiddle. Perhaps, if you were to 
mention these important objections to Mr. B., 
he would obviate them at once. For my pari, 
I wish the recess was twice as long. As- to 
the letter G, I did not know that its tail had 
any precise length. 

Mr. Quiddle. You have much to learn 
Mrs. Quiddle. By the way, I notice i, to-day. 
that Joseph called you mother, and you did 
not reprimand him. 

Mrs. Quiddle. Reprimand him ! 

Air. Quiddle. Such familiarity will lessen, 
if not destroy, your authority over him. If he 
were to call me father, I should chastise him. 

Mrs. Quiddle. Poor hoy ! there is no fear 
of his being chastised, then ; for he does not 
feel towards you as if you were his father. 

Mr. Quiddle. I like to preserve a whole 
some distance, that he may pay me proper 
respect. 

Mrs. Quiddle. The respect of fear cannot 

be relied on •„ and such overnicety 

I Mr. Quiddle. Do you know that, to what 
you call my overnicety, I owe all my health 
and wealth ? 

Mrs. Quiddie. I know, that, to preserve 
your health, you have sacrificed the happiness, 
and to accumulate your wealth, you have 
forfeited the respect, of all around you. 

Mr. Quiddle. Can it be that you are 
serious ? 

Mrs. Quiddle. I never was more so. I 
have told you the truth, at the risk of your 
displeasure. 

Mr. Quiddle. Well, well — if it is so bad as 
that, I must alter my conduct. I will do so 
from this moment. [Stoops and picks up a 
pin] There, this is the fifth pin, besides a 
headless one, that I have picked up to-day! 
But, as I was saying, I intend to reform. Oh, 
if you send Joseph to the shop, lell him not to 
give fourpence-half penny for six cents; for 
you know, my dear, it is six cents and a 
quarter*— I certainly must watch my conduct. 
But where is dinner? It is more than a 
minute after the time. My dear, do see to it. — 
There is another pin ! Well, it is amazing to 
me how careless somefolks are ! Mrs. Quiddle. 
tell Molly to bring her thimble to me, that I 
may see whether it holds more than mine ! — 
I must think of what you told me. 

(f. f. d.) 

757. the village school, 
characters. 
Mrs. Weatherbox, the Teacher. Susanna, an 
Orphan that she has taken to bring up. Pupils — 
Catharine Rich, Lucy Heart, Maria Small, Sarah 
Ross, Abba Mix, Isabel Fox, Mary Spare, Jane 
Smith, Fanny Mills, Martha Wells ; other smaller 
Scholars, also. 

[ The scene represents a school-room, with desks' 
benches, fyc. The_ scholars are talking 
together, arid waiting for the teachers 
arrival.\ 

Catharine. I guess, Susanna, your ugly 
old aunt is taking a nap after dinner, she 
makes it so late. Had she something uncunt 
monly nice for dinner ? 



312 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



Susa/ina. She had a chicken, I believe; 
but she gave me a lung task, and told me to 
slay here till I had done it. 

Catharine. She did that to prevent your 
having any of the chicken — a stingy old thing! 

Susanna. I cannot believe that she would 
be so seliish and unjust. 

Lucy. Why, I am sure it is just of a piece 
with all her conduct towards you. She never 
gives you any thing fit to wear ; and much as 
ever she alters her old, cast off rags, when she 
turns them over to you. 

Susanna. But she took me, when no one 
else in the world would have done so ; and I 
hope to get a tolerable education under her 
care, although she is not always so kind to 
me as I try to deserve. 

Lucy. You are too good by half, Susanna; 
and 1 dare say now, you are half starved, 
while that selfish old creature is so full she 
can do nothing but sleep. Here, take this 
apple. I have had my dinner, and don't 
want it. 

Susanna. I'thank you, Lucy; but my aunt 
told me I must not eat any thing till I had 
done my task . 

Lucy. You must take it, my dear girl, or I 
ghall be affronted. Your aunt only meant, 
that you must not eat any food that cost her 
any thing. 

Susanna. Well, I vnll eat it ; for I am 
really faint. 

Catharine. There she comes! I see her 
old cap. Look out, girls ! Run to your seats, 
or you'll get it. 

[ Tlie scholars all run, and sit as if afraid.] 

[Enter Airs. Weatherbox, fanning herself , and 

looking very cross.] 

Mrs. Weatherbox. Susanna, how dare you 
eat that apple? 

Susanna. I did not think you would object, 
ma'am; it was a present from one of the 
scholars. 

Mrs. Weatherbox. Present, indeed! I should 
like to see how a present tastes. It does 
one's heart good to have a present now-a- 
days ; but the time was, when I had a 
present every day. [To Susanna.] Your 
applo is forfeited, miss. [She takes it away, | 
and begins to eat it herself] Resume your 
seat, miss. Let the first class in reading 
come up. [She unlocks the drawer of her 
table, while six stand up, three on each side 
of her. 

Mrs. Weatherbox. Maria Small, begin at 
the 45th page, " On the Beauties of Nature." 

Maria. [Reading, very slowly and blunder- 
ingly.] " Although-the-moon-we-behold-is-an- 
O. P. Q,. body-like-our-earth." 

Mrs. Weatherbox. [Gaping.] What sort 
■)[ a body did you call it ? 

Maria. O. P- Q,., ma'am. 

Mrs Weatherbox. Opaque, you mean. 
The word means dark ; and, dear me, how 
dark die room is ! [She gapes again ] I guess 
tny specs want wiping. Go on with your 
reading. [She wipes her spectacles'.] 

Maria. " Although the moon we behold is 
An opaque body, still its surface is rendered 
visible to us, by the reflection of the sun's 
Ugh*." 



[Mrs. Weatlwrbox' s head begins to fall, a* if 
she was sleepy. Catharine gives a sign t€ 
Maria to leave off reading, and she herself 
begins, but only makes a humming noise— 
Um, um, um, urn, &c. Mrs. Weatherbox, in 
the mean time, lets her book fall from out 
hand, and tlie apple from tlie other, and her 
head falls on her shoulder.] 
Lucy. [Going close up, and looking to see 
if she is actually asleep.] Hush, girls ! let her 
get well asleep before you stir. 
[Some move about on tiptoe, and all whisper.'] 
Sarah. I mean to rummage the old lady's 
drawer, and see what she has stolen from the 
scholars. [She opens the table drawer and all 
the scholars crowd round. Sarah says,] Here's 
your cup and ball, Lucy. Now take it, and 
hide it. Jane Smith, here is your picture- 
book. She has been reading it first, to see 
whether it is a suitable book for you to read. 
Mary Spare, here is your cake, that she was 
afraid would hurt you, Little girls' stomachs, 
like ours, cannot bear any rich food, you 
know ; and so she eats it for us ! 

Lucy. Here is her old snuff-box. Why is 
not snuff as good as pepper and mustard, that 
she loves so dearly? [She sprinkles some 
snuff on the apple, and lays it on the table, 
and says] There, Susanna, she shall pay for 
robbing you, if she eats any more of her 
plunder. 

Abba. Here is the fool's cap. Come, girls, 
let's see if it becomes ma'am as well as it 
does the rest of us. [She puts it upon Mrs. 
Weatherbox' s head. She then doubles her fist 
in the old bady's face, and says,] Eh! you 
ugly old thing ! I'd put a pipe in your mouth, 
if it wouldn't wake you up ! 
[Isabel Fox pitts on the old lady's spectacles 
and, calling two or three very small girlt 
around her, pretends to keep school, mimick- 
ing the old lady.] 

Catharine. Oh, here is her precious memo 
randum-book ! Come, girls, now for a treat ! 
They say she writes all her secrets here. 
Let's see. Here is a memorandum of what 
she intends to say at mother's party, to-uight. 
I have heard that she always studies, before- 
hand, some smart speeches. Now let's see. 

Susanna. Miss Catharine, 1 beg you not 
to read that book. It is dishonorable to read 
way writing that is not intended to be seen. 

Catharine. She has read my billets a 
hundred times; and tit for tat, I say. 

Szisanna. Let me entreat you to put back 
the memorardum-book. 

Catharine. Not I, indeed ! It shall be read 
in committee of the whole. So form & circle, 
all hands of you, and hold your tongues. Come, 
Susanna, you must join us. 

Susanna. Excise c>e; I am unwilling to 
do any thing while my aa&t is asleep, that I 
would not attempt if she were awake. 

Lucy. You are altogether too scrupulous, 
Suzy, dear. Do not try to make us believa 
you feel any great respect for such a cross old 
crone as this. 
[The old lady mores one arm and Sarah 
Ross <ays,] 
Sarah. Hush! she is waking. Bun foi 
your lives. 



AND DIALOGUES. 



34 J 



[All scamper to their seats, but she does not 

isake. and Catharine calls tlicm around her 

again] 

Catharine. Come, girls, let's hav e the treat. 
Come, Suzy, you mast hear it too. 

Susanna. I really cannot join in what I 
do not approve. Do, pray, give me the book, 
and let me put it back. 

Catharine. No, no, not till we have had a 
Jaste of it. She expects " to astonish the 
natives" at our house to-night, and I am 
determined, beforehand, to know what she is 
to say. Now, Susanna, do not carry your 
honor so far as to wake your aunt, and betray 
as all as soon as we begin. There she sits, for 
all the world like the Sleeping Beauty in the 
Woods. [Making- a face at her.] 

Susa?ma. What have you seen in me, 
Catharine, to lead you to suspect that I could 
be mean enough to betray you ? 

Catharine. Well, my dear girl, stand and 
watch her, then, and give us a hint if she 
moves. Now for it ! \Reads.] " Memoran- 
dums for Mrs. Rich's tea-party. To stir my 
tea a long time, that I may say to my next 
neighbor, ' I like to have all the composite 
parts of my beverage both saturated and 
coagulated.'" 

'•To fan myself, that I may say, 'How 
sweetly the zephyrs of Boreas temper the 
heat of Phoebus!'" 

" To tell the story of the man who ran his 
head against a shop-shade, and said, half- 
stutmed~by the blow, ' What is that V « That 
is a conjunction, 1 said a school-boy, who was 
passing." 

" To speak French as often as I can, not 
forgetting to mention the eclaio of Mrs. Rich's 
carriage ; to allude to the fox-paw of Colonel 
Trip, and the na-vette of Miss Catharine. If 
no one leads me to the table, to say, ' Shakun 
power soy' " 

Susanna. Hush ! hush ! she is waking ! 
[Mrs. Weatherbox begins to move a little. 

and Catharine shuts the book, and says to 

Susanna,] 

Catharine. Pray, pray, put it into the 
drawer instantly. Run all, tor your lives, to 
your seats. 
[One little girl stumbles over a cricket, and 

makes so much noise, that Mrs. Weatherbox 

awakes. The six readers stand in their 

places. Mrs. Weatlierbox starts up, rubs 

tier eyes, and says,] 

Mrs. Weatherbox. What's that noise ? 
Dear me ! I was beginning to lose myself. 
Maria, my dear, finish the sentence you were 
reading. 

Catharine. I hope, ma'am, you will give 
us some merits for keeping so still while you 
were taking your nap. 

Mrs. Weatherbox. Nap! nap! Who says 
I have been taking a nap? I have heard 
every word that has been read. Come, 
girls, go on with your reading. Let me see — 
where was the place ? Where are my spec- 
tacles ? 

Isabel. Here, ma'am. I was afraid they 
would fall on the floor, and so 1 held them till 
you waked up. 

Mrs. Wtatherbox. Waked up, you minx ! 



What do you mean? 1 have been no more 
asleep than you have. 

Isauel. Then how did you lose your spec- 
tacles, ma'am without knowing it? 

Mrs, Weatherbox. I mark" Miss Fox for 
impertinence. Go on with your reading, 
Maria [Maria reads, and while she is doing 
so, Mrs. Weatherbox biles the apple, and begins 
to make faces and spit She then says,] 
What's this ? SnufF? snuff? snuff on my 
apple ? Who put snuff on my apple ? 

Lucy. Who could do so, ma'am, and yoc 
all the time awake, and looking on ? 

Catharine. Perhaps the apple touched 
your snuffbox, ma'am. Poor Susan did not 
have a chance to see whether it tasted of 
snuff before you took it away from her. 

Mrs. Weatherbox. I mark Miss Rich for 
talking unnecessarily. Go on with your read- 
ing, Maria. [Maria reads a few words, ana 
Mrs. Weatherbox opens her drawer, and, seeing 
the confusion, says,] My stars ! who has 
dared to touch my drawer! Somebody, I see, 
has been here ! Where is my memorandum 
i book? Has any one dai-ed to touch it? 
Susanna, where is my memorandum-book? 
[Susanna hides her face in her wo?-k, but doe.-, 
not answer. Mrs. Weatherbox rises, seizes 
her by the arm, and says,] Now look me lull 
in the face, and say you did not take that 
memorandum-book out of my drawer ! Speak 
out, speak loud ! 

Susanna. I did not, I did not, indeed! 

Mrs. Weatherbox. I do not believe you, 
and shall make bold to search you. [£>/** 
thrusts her hands into Susanna's pocket, and 
draws out the memorandum-book, a?id holds it 
up, saying, [You did not take it, hey ? You 
did not take it ? What do you say now ? 

Susanna. [Sobbing.] I did not take it 
from the drawer, ma'am. 

Mrs. Weatherbox. Then you know who 
did. So tell me this instant. [Susanna does 
not answer.] I know, then, you took it 
yourself; it is exactly like you. 

Susanna. Oh, aunt ! it is not like me to 
do such a thing. 

Mrs. Weatherbox. Not another word ! I 
shall believe you did it, till you can prove your 
innocence by pointing out the culprit. But I 
am certain it was yourself, and I shall punish 
you accordingly. I suppose you have taken 
care to read every word of it? 

Susanna. I really did not read one lino 
of it. 

Mrs. Weatherbox. You did not read it 1 
Then why did you steal it? I'll punish you 
to your heart's content. You shall be shut up 
in this room for a week, and shall have only 
bread and water, and a short allowance of 
even that; and you shall sew on that hard 
linen from morning till night, I promise you. 
Girls, you may all go home; school is dis- 
missed. 

[The girls g-o out. Susanna sits and sobs as 
she works.] 

Mrs. Weatleerbox. There, now do not stir 
till I come back! Leave off crying, and mind 
your sewing, I shall not see you till morning 

Susanna. Aunt, I assure you that I ai* 
innocent 



344 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



Mrs Weatherbox. A pretty story! Hold 
your tongue, and mind vour work. [She goes 
hit.] 

[Cathari?ie enters on tiptoe.} 

Catharine. My dear Susan, I wish you to 
g<- home with me. 

Susanna. My aunt has forbidden me to 
stir from this room, till she returns tomorrow 
morning. I am so faint now that I can hardly 
fit up. 

Catharine. Do you not think such treatment 
cruel and unjust ? 

Susanna. I do. 

Catharine. And yet you submit to it. 

Susanna. I have no home but this. 

Catharine. I will lend you one, for one 
night, at least. My dear girl, you shall suffer 
no more for my wickedness. It is my offence 
that you are to be punished for, and 1 am 
determined to undergo the penalty myself. 
Now put my shawl and bonnet on yourself, 
and go home, and tell my parents that I have 
changed beds with you lor one night. Leave 
Pie here, and return in the morning. 

Susa?ina. You are not used to suffering, 
and I am used to nothing else. 

Catharine. I am determined, and you must 
submit. There — don't speak. [Putting on 
Her things. There — go and enjoy, for one 
night, at" least, a happy home. 

Susanna. What do you intend to do? 

Catharine. No matter. Leave it to mc. 
Go now, or your aunt may return and prevent 
you. 

[ Susanna goes out.] 

[Catharine sits at work, with her head down. 

Mrs. Weatherbox enters ] 

Mrs. Weatherbox. I forgot to say, that no 
one will be permitted to speak to you for a 
week ; and I shall take the precaution to lock 
the door, and keep the key myself. What 
did Catharine Rich have to say to you ? I met 
her as I came in. 

Catharine. [Without raising her head.] 
She came to say, that you were too cruel to 
punish me, when she was the guilty one. She 
t.ireatens to tell her father, and ask him to 
adopt me, and take us both from your school. 
She invited me to run home with her now. 

Mrs. Weatherbox. Why didn't yow go? 

Catharine. I thought she would do the 
errand best, 

Mrs. Weatherbox. Highty-tighty ! [Seizing 
her arm, and twitching tier up on her feet.] 

Catharine. Touch me, if you dare, madam! 
Your persecuted prisoner has escaped. 

Mrs. Weatherbox. Catharine Rich! What 
does this mean, miss? 

Catharine. It means, madam, that I could 
not bear to see your innocent victim suffering 
for me ; and I have persuaded her to take 
shelter with my parents, and leave me to be 
punished, if you dare to touch me. /took the 
memorandum-book from your drawer, when 
vou were asleep, sound asleep; in consequence 
at eatinsr your own portion of chicken and hers 
also. She took it from me to restore it to you ; 
but you awoke before she had an opportunity 
to do so. The generous girl preferred to suffer, 
.-ather than to expose me. 1 know the respect 
which is due from pupils to their teachers; 



but, madam, pupils have rijkV.s, and teacher* 
must respect them, if they wish to be respected. 
Susanna is beyond your reach, and 1 am in 
your power. Punish me, if you think I deserve 
it, for anticipating the wit you intended to lot 
me 6hare freely at my mother's tea-party. 
The memorandum will do yet ; for I have not 
repeated the conjunction story, nor the French, 
to any soul living. 

Mrs. Weatherbox. Go home, miss, and teM 
Susanna to come back immediately. 

Catharine. Say you pardon her, then. 

Mrs. Weatherbox. I do. 

Catharine. Say you will love and treat 
her well, as she deserves, poor girl ! 

Mrs. Weatherbox. 1 will. I am too much 
mortified to be angry ; and, for the first time 
in my life, I am ready to confess to my papils 
that I am in the wrong. Oh, how much 
happiness I have lost in the foolish attempt to 
make my pupils believe that my judgment 
and conduct were always right! My dear 
girl, you have set me a lesson to-day, that 
will never be forgotten. [Looking at ike 
audience.] It is singular, that taking a nap 
should open my eyes so wide. 

758. the debating club. 

The President, Mr. Bunker, Mr. King, Mr. Bull, 
Mr. Vernon, Mr. Slowmatch, Mr. Steamer, Mr. 
Brandywine, Mr. York, Mons. Bonjour, Mr. Mit- 
timus, Mr. Slack, Mr. Fairslde, Secretary. 
[The President and Secretary sitting at a table, 
and the other members seated around.] 

President. Gentlemen, the ordinary busi- 
ness of the club having been performed, the 
next business in order will be the regular 
debate. If you will give your attention, 
gentlemen, the Secretary will read from the 
records the question to be discussed. 

Secretary. [Reads.] " The subject pro 
posed for discussion, at the next meeting, is, 
' Which teas the greater man, Washington or 
Lafayette?' On the side of Washington; 
Messrs. Bunker, King, Bull, Vernon, Slow- 
match, and Steamer, were appointed ; and, on 
the other side, Messrs. Brandy wine, York, 
Fairside, Bonjour, Mittimus, and Slack. It 
was also voted, that the next meeting should 

be holden at — Hall, that the numerous 

friends of the members might hear the dis- 
cussion without inconvenience. 

Attest, John Scrip, Secretary." 

President. You have heard the record, 
gentlemen; and, if no objection is made, the 
regular discussion of the proposed question 
will commence. 

Mr. Slack. Mr. President ! 

President. Mr. Slack, gentlemen. 

Mr. Slack. [Very rapidly.] Mr. President 
— I rise, sir, to say that, as every member, 
probably, has a desire to say something upon 
the subject to be discussed thi3 evening, and 
some folks have not any too much control over 
their tongues, it will be but fair that no 
member be allowed to speak more than five 
minutes at one time. I have no fear but what 
I shall get my share of the time ; but I speak 
for the sake of others, sir, who may rot be so 
fortunate; those, sir. who 'ike ri*° 'ame map 
at Belhesda. wish to get n tc- »bt troubled 



AND DIALOGUES. 



345 



water, but are so long making their prepara- 
tions, sir, that somebody always gets in before 
them. I disapprove, sir, of monopolizing the 
whole time and attention of the Society; and 
1 trust, sir, my motives for making this sugges- 
tion will not be misunderstood. 

President. Do you make a motion to that 
effect, sir ? 

Mr. Slack. I do, sir; for it appears to me, 
sir, that the sin of modern times, sir, is the 
propensity to talk, sir, when men have nothing 
to say, sir , and an unwillingness to leave off, 
sir, when one has done. I am a friend to 
equal rights, sir — and I wish to give every 
man an opportunity to exercise his tongue, 
if he has any disposition to do so, sir. 

Mr. Steamer. Mr. President — I lise to ask 
if there is any question before the meeting ? 

President. Does any one second the motion 
of Mr. Slack? 

Mr. Stoic-match. [Drawling very slotcly.] 
1 will second his motion, Mr. President; 
though five minutes will hardly allow me 
time to hurry over all the ground 1 had marked 
out for myself on this occasion. I will second 
tne motion, however, Mr. President. 

President. Gentlemen, it has been moved 
ami seconded, that no gentleman be allowed 

to speak upon the question 

Mr. Slack. No, sir ; no, sir ; I did not move 
that they be not allowed to speak upon the 

question, but 

Pi evident. It is moved and seconded that 
no gentleman be allowed to speak more than 

live miuutes ■ 

Mr. Slack. Upon the question, sir — not* 
more than five minutes upon the question. 

President. If the gentleman will give me 
one minute, I will put the question so as to 
suit him. Gentlemen, if it be your minds that 
no member shall be allowed to speak more 
than H^e minutes upon the question before 

us 

Mr. Slack. Beg pardon, sir ; not upon the 
question before us — which is a question of 
order merely — but upon the question proposed 
(or discussion this evening. Excuse me, sir; 
but it is best to go straight forward, and not 
get into a tangle, sir, as they do in Congress 
President. Gentlemen who are in favor 
of allowing only five minutes to every 

Bpeaker 

Mr. Slack. Five minutes to each speaker, 
sir — at one time, sir. 

President. Gentlemen, you heard the motion 
of the gentleman as he made it; and if it be 
your minds to sustain it, you will please to 
hold up your hands. [All hands up.] It is a 
vote, gentlemen. 

Mr. Bunker. Will the Secretary be good 
enough to read, again, the subject under 
discussion this evening? 

Secretary. "Was Washington, or Lafayette, 
the greater man 1" 

Mr. Bunker. Mr. President ! 
President. Mr. Bunker, gentlpmen. 
Mr. Bunker. Mr. President — I rise, sir, to 
express my astonishment, that any body should 
propose such a question for the consideration 
of ac American. What, sir! are we called on 
to institute a comparison between the great 



Washingti nt and his pupil, sir? the man that 
owed all the greatness he possessed to hig 
master ? I should as so«n think of instituting a 
comparison between the sun aud moon, sir — 
between the body that warms, enlightens, and 
guides the earth, and that inferior orb, which 
moves, sir, as it is compelled, and, shedding no 
warmth in its beams, is dependent upon the 
sun for even the cold light it dispenses. Sir, I 
can hardly treat the comparison seriously; for, 
much as I have admired the romantic heroism 
of the young Frenchman, it never before 
entered into my head, that he was a rival of 
Washington — that any American could be 
willing, for a moment, to allow that a foreigner 
could be as dear to him as his own beloved 
Washington. 

Mons. Bonjour. Ma foi, Monsieur le Presi- 
dent ; the kes-ti-on is not who de gentilhomme 
shall love, but who is de most grand homme. 
I hope de gentilhomme will stick himself to 
the kes-ti-on. 

Mr. Bunker. I had nearly done, Mr. Presi- 
dent. I cannot think that any American will 
attempt to institute a comparison between the 
immortal Washington, and any other man that 
ever lived. 

Mr. Brandy wine. Mr. President ! 
President. Mr. Brandywine, gentlemen. 
Mr. Brandywine. Sir, the gentleman has, 
very unceremoniously, assumed the very point 
in dispute. He has allowed his feelings, I 
fear, sir, to warp his judgment in this matter. 
He is at liberty, sir, to love Washington 
better than any other man He is justified in 
feeling under greater obligation to him than 
to any other man; but, sir, in considering the 
question before us, it is the duty of every 
disputant to divest himself of all partialities 
of every sort, however patriotic and amiable 
they may appear, and dispassionately to view 
the claims of the two great men in question. 
It is true, sir, that Lafayette was the pupil 
of Washington; but this is the first time, sir, ' 
that I ever heard that a pupil must, neces- 
sarily, all his life long, be inferior to his master 
Washington himself once had a master, sir, 
but the probability is, that he excelled him. 
The gentleman, sir, compares his favorite to 
the sun; he does right to do so, sir; but he 
should recollect thatlhere are more suns than 
one. It is not for the inhabitants of our 
system, who are warmed and cheered by our 
sun, sir, to say that the glorious suns of other 
systems are inferior, sir', and only moons. 
The gentleman thinks, sir, that no American 
will venture to assert the claim of Lafayette 
to equal rank with Washington ; but, sir, 
I am an American, and a countryman of 
Washington — and 1 am not ashamed to 
acknowledge the claims, the espial claims, 
of Lafayette, to the love and homage of the 
world. The gentleman may think of me as 
he pleases, sir, 'for this avowal; but, sir, 
neither his contempt for me, nor his love 
for Washington, will prove the position he 
assumes. I wait, sir, to hear something 
besides bare assertion, unsupported, as ia 
this case, by reason, fact, or argument. 
Mr. Kino-. Mr. President ! 
President. Mr. Kiujj. gentlemen. 



34G 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



Mr. King. I rejoice, Mr. President, that it 
fell to my lot to be upon the Washington side 
of this argument ; for, sir, I should have been 
sorely puzzled for any (king like an argument 
on the other side. To me, sii, the bright 
ajul pre-eminent points of our Washiagton's 
character are so numerous, that it would be 
'-.iin to attempt a display of them all. I shall, 
therefore, sir, just mention one of them, to 
afford gentlemen on the other side an oppor- 
tunity to concentrate their remarks upon a 
single point, and thus see the striking contrast 
which the two characters exhibit. Where, 
sir. in the wide range of history, can you find 
a parallel to the disinterestedness of Wash- 
ington? At an early age, he became a 
favorite of the provincial government ; and, at 
the outbreak of the revolution, the way to 
preferment lay in his adherence to the mother 
country ; but, sir, he did not hesitate in his 
choice — he rejected the royal offers, and 
embraced a cause which promised him no 
other elevation than the scaffold. Besides, 
sir, he was wealthy — and, the moment he 
became a rebel, he forfeited his all, should he 
fail of success. Nay, more, sir, he knew that, 
in accepting the command of the American 
forces, he must become an exile from the wife 
of his bosom and the home of his affection. 
But, sir, he did not hesitate — he left all. Nay, 
sir, he refused to accept any compensation for 
his own untiring services and sufferings in a 
seven years' war ; but he never forgot to urge 
the claims of his suffering fellow-soldiers. 
Sir, the event was fortunate, and sanctioned 
these sacrifices; but, where else shall we 
look for such en instance of devoted patriotism 
and disinterestedness ? Surely not, sir, in the 
conduct of him who left his country, and 
estate, and family, secure in Europe, and 
only risked his person in the contest — a risk 
that was shared by the meanest soldier. I 
shall wait, sir, to hear what our opponents 
have to say upon this point, before I proceed 
to other traits of character as brilliant, as 
unique, and as undisputed as this. 

Mr. York. Mr. President ! 

President. Mr. York, gentlemen. 

Mr. York. I am unused to debate, Mr. 
President ; but, as I intended to say a few 
words this evening, I had thought the best 
time to do so would be, when the argument 
of our opponents was most weak and untenable 
This time has arrived, sir ; the arguments of 
the gentleman who has just taken his seat are 
of this character; and I will ask your attention 
one moment, while I endeavor to maintain 
the position, that, in our revolutionary war, 
L afayette showed more disinterestedness than 
Washington. The gentleman says, sir, that, 
in embracing the cause of the colonies, his 
hero relinquished all the honors and emolu- 
ments which awaited him as the favorite of 
the royal governor. Sir, it is a well known 
fact, that Washington had been slighted by 
the British government; he had been made 
subordinate to a foreign general, who had 
rejected his advice, and sneered at the 
provincial officers. But, sir, admitting that 
no such prejurlice against the provincials 
existed, it is by no means certain, that the 



rank of colonel, or even general, under the 
king, was superior to that of commander-inr 
chief of all the American forces — an appoint- 
ment which almost involved the control of the 
whole nation. But, allowing, for the sake of 
argument, that a sacrifice was made, who 
does not see that the sacrifices of Lafayette 
were, in every respect, greater? Did Wash- 
ington lisk ascending the scaffold as a rebel? 
so did the foreigner who aided and abetted 
the rebels. Did Washington abandon the 
doubtful chance of promotion under a pre- 
judiced monarch? so did Lafayette abandon 
the certain promotion which awaited him at 
the court of" a monarch, who had already 
singled him out for special favors, Did 
Washington risk the loss of all his property 
by joining his countrymen ? Lafayette brought 
more with him than Washington ever owned. 
Did Washington fight to preserve his own 
property from confiscation? Lafayette fouyht 
to save the property of others. Did Wash- 
ington accept a command which separated 
him from his wife and family, for a few 
hundred miles, and for a part of the year? 
so did Lafayette leave a young wife, a beloved 
family, and a devoted country, to be separated, 
not for months, but for years ; not for hundreds, 
but for thousands of miles — with hardly a hope 
of any communication, even by letter. Did 
Washington refuse compensation for his 
services? Lafayette did more; he poured out 
his tmasures like water, that he neither hoped 
nor cared to gather up again. When informed 
that the Americans were in want of every 
thing, and could not promise him any pay, he 
fitted out a vessel of war, and loaded her, on 
his own account. When he arrived, and found 
his regiment naked and destitute, he equipped 
them at his own expense. I think, sir, that 
the gentlemen on the other side of the question 
must seek some other foundation than disin- 
terestedness, on which to build the superior 
claims of Washington. 

Mr. Bull. Mr. President! 

President, Mr. Bull, gentlemen. 

Mr, Bull. Sir, I did not mean to take any 
part in this discussion, because any thing I 
might say against the claims of the French 
intermeddler, might be attributed to the 
national prejudice which has always existed 
between France and my native England. 

Mons. Bonjour. Pardon, monsieur! I will, 
shall, shall, will not myself sit down and hear 
de vil nom intermeddel applique to de sacred 
nom of Lafayette. No, sare, if mon compatriot 
was one intermeddel, den evare fren of man 
is intermeddel. No, sare ! I vill not excuse 
de prejujes of one ennemi mortel. I hate 
evare ting dat look like Jean Bull; evare 
ting, sare ! toujours, toujours, nevare. 

President. Mr. Bull will see the propriety 
of abstaining from the use of offensive epithets, 
where the national feelings are so sensi- 
tive. 

Mr. Bull. I merely meant to remark, sir. 
that it has always been my opinion, that if 
the Americans had rebelled against any other 
nation than the English, who are the heredi- 
tary enemies of France, it would have been 
I long, indeed, sir, before the disinterested 



AND DIALOGUES. 



347 



Lafayette would have taken the trouble to 
cross the At 1 antic. 

Mr.Faisside. Mr. President ! In reply 

President. Mr. Fairside, gentlemen. 

Mr. Fairside. In answer to the gentleman 
last up, I would remark, sir, that there is 
every reason to believe, that Lafayette loved 
the cause of human liberty for itself alone; 
and the gentleman has no reason to suppose, 
that the chivalric youth would not have gone 
to Mexico as readily as to the British pro- 
vinces, had the seeds of liberty first taken 
root in the dominions of Old Spain. He saw, 
sir, that Liberty, in Europe, was prostrated, 
and the iron foot of Tyranny upon her neck ; 
he 6aw, sir, that the struggle must begin 
elsewhere, that the first blow must be struck 
by intelligent and determined men. His noble 
heart caught, instinctively, at the effort of 
our fathers ; he knew that they had been 
cradled on the rock of Plymouth, sir, and 
his prophetic eye saw the influence that 
a successful struggle must exert upon the 
destiny of man, not only here and in Europe, 
but throughout the world, sir ; and he lent his 
soul, his arm, his wealth, to the holy purpose. 
He was superior to prejudice, sir, even the 
hereditary prejudice of his country. 

Mr. Bull. Still, Mr. President, it might he 
maintained, that Lafayette was not entitled 
to much credit on the score of disinterestedness, 
since he received from your government full 
pay for all he advanced in its service. 

Mr. Fairside. Allow me, sir, to say, in 
reply to this new charge, that when Lafayette 
offered his treasures, or rather brought them, 
he brought them to those unable to repay 
him ; he asked for no security — he never, sir, 
asked for any return. His glorious re appear- 
ance in this country, after the lapse of half a 
century, revived the slumbering gratitude of 
those he had helped to redeem; and they. did 
him an act of justice, sir, as honorable to 
themselves as unexpected and unasked for by 
him. I think, sir, this grateful expression 
of American feeling towards a benefactor, 
can never be fairly construed into an impeach- 
ment of his perfect disinterestedness. 

Mr. Vernon. Mr. President ! 

President. Mr. Vernon, gentlemen 

Mr. Vernon. The opposition, sir, have given 
is a glowing description of the liberality of 
their favorite ; but, sir. they have overlooked 
the fact, that, when Washington joined the 
rebels, their cause was desperate. Lafayette 
did not come over until the Declaration of 
Independence had raised the provinces to the 
rank of a nation, and relieved the rebels from 
the fear of an ignominious death. He does 
not recollect, sir, that the Americans had 
given proofs of skill and desperate bravery, 
on which Lafayette could rely for ultimate 
success. Was not the French hero, in this 
respect, an eleventh hour man, sir, who 
expected as much honor as those who had 
borne the burden and heat of the day? I 
pause for a reply. 

Mr. Mittimus. Mr. President! 

President. Mr. Mittimus, gentlemen. 

Mr- Mittimus. With your permission, sir, 
I w ; U just state what I bslieve to be an 



historical fact, in answer to the gentleman 
just up. It is unfair, sir, to reckon the 
services of Lafayette from the time of hia 
arrival in America, for it is well known, that, 
long before this, he had intended to come K but 
had been prevented by his king. Every 
stratagem was tried, to elude the vigilance 
of his friends, and of the officers of govern- 
ment ; and, while these efforts were making, 
the American commissioners at Paris thought 
it their duty to inform him, that they had just 
received information of the defeat of the 
American forces, and the almost utter hope- 
lessness of their cause. This only made him 
more anxious to depart; and, when they 
ingenuously confessed to him that they had 
no vessel, and no means to furnish one, for 
his passage to America, he purchased and 
equipped one himself, and eluded the vigilance 
of his government. Call you such a man an 
eleventh hour man? Sir, 1 call him the friend 
in need. But, sir, while on this point, let 
me ask, where was Washington while our 
patriots were bleeding on the plains of Lex- 
ington, and on the heights of Charlestown? 
On his farm, sir, I believe, waiting to hear 
from the north. 

Mr. Vernon. [Hastily ] I rise, Mr. Presi- 
dent, to -say, that it was not the practice of 
Washington to intrude himself upon the notice 
of his countrymen ; he uniformly obeyed the 
dictates of his innate modesty, and never, 
I repeat it, sir, never intruded his services 
till they were called for. When the voice 
of his country called him to command her 
armies, he instantly obeyed her call. 

Mr. Mittimus. This is too bad, Mr. Presi- 
dent, altogether too bad. What ! sir, are we 
to be told that the noble souls who, uninvited, 
opposed their bosoms to the bayonets of 
Britain, are to be called intruders ? What, 
sir, would have been our fate, if a few such 
men as Warren, Putnam, Stark, and Prescott, 
had not intruded themselves into the little 
redoubt on Bunker's Hill, which was so certain 
to become their tomb ? Intruders ! Sir, had, 
I been one of that glorious band of intruders, 
I would not have thanked any monarch in 
Christendom for the highest honors in his 
gift; that was honor enough for one life. Sir, 
the gentleman is welcome to all the merit he 
claims for the modesty of his hero. I prefer 
that spirit which saw that the first blow was 
the great one on which the hopes of liberty 
and the country depended ; and which, without 
asking what modesty and the courtesies of 
society required, rushed to the contest, and 
set a glorious example of self-devotion. 

Mr. Steamer. Mr. President ! 

President. Mr. Steamer, gentlemen. 

Mr. Steamer. I rise, sir, to express my 
astonishment at the course of this debate. 
Can it be, sir, that we have so kng mistaken 
the character of Washington, and have trans- 
ferred to him the honor and glory which 
belonged to his young friend ? It has hitherto 
been the opinion of our countrymen, that they 
owed the establishment of their liberties and 
independence to the cooljudgment, unflinching 
valor, and perseverance of him whom they 
have delighted to call the Father of hift 



348 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



country. B&t vir, sir, we are told, that we 
owe all this to a young man, who was hardly 
mentioned at that trying period, and who 
himself would have shrunk l'rom the assump- 
tion of any such honors. Let us, for a moment, 
look at the relative merit of these heroes, 
as warriors of the revolution. J would not 
detract, sir, from the value of Lafayette's 
services; but I would ask, sir, what could the 
services of a subordinate officer be, when 
compared with those of the commander-in- 
chief? The siege of Boston was raised, the 
unparalleled retreat from Long Island effected, 
the saving victory of Trenton gained, before 
Lafayette arrived. On no occasion did 
Lafayette command any considerable body 
of troops, or perform any independent exploit. 
It was Washington who planned and executed 
the finishing stroke at Yorktown; it was he 
who was consulted by Congress ; it was his 
name that was the bond of union; it was he 
who controlled the suffering and almost rebel- 
lious army. "What should we say, sir, if an 
attempt were made to snatch from Wellington 
the honors of Waterloo, and place them upon 
the brow of some gallant commander of a 
gallant detachment? Sir, I would do justice 
to the gallant Frenchman, but I should be 
unwilling to name him by the side of- General 
Washington. 

Motis. Bonjour. Ma foi ! de gentilhomme 
sneore, again, forgets de kestion. Dis is not 
who was de grand great man in de revolution 
of '75, but who was de plus grand man all his 
life forevare. Washington did command de 
littell army of the revolution wis all de skill 
necessaire ; but Lafayette did command de 
grand armee of France. At de age of terty- 
tree he was at de head of de garde nalionelle, 
more of four million men, more dan de whole 
toute population of Amerique atde revolution. 
One of tree major-general of France, he defeat 
de invading armies of de allies at Philippeville, 
Mauberge, Florennes. Ma foi! de whole army 
American not enough to cook one dinnare 
for de grand arm^e of France. I dono dat 
Washington could not command de grand 
armee, mais, but he never try. I no say any 
ting gains Washington, but 1 defend my own 
compatriot. I no speak de English langue, 
mais, but you will pardon mon amour-patrie, 
what you call 

President. Patriotism. 

Mons. Bonjour. Oui ; I tank you ; de gentil- 
men will pardon my patriotism. [Striking his 
bosom secerrd times.] 

Mr. Steamer. It may be allowed, Mr. Presi- 
dent, that Lafayette was called to command 
larger armies than ever were raised in 
America; but, sir, it may admit of question, 
whether it did not require more skill to 
manage the smaller armies of our revolution, 
destitute, as ihey were, of every thing, and 
opposed, as they were, to the veteran troops 
»f England, than to manage the larger armies 
which were collected to repel the invaders of 
France. I have seen the commander of a 
frigate unable to manage a small vessel when 
the navigation was dangeroiis, and indebted 
for his life and the safety of the vessel to the 
ikipper of a fishing-boat. The times, sir, 



called for a peculiar man, and Washington 
was sent, sir, and fulfilled his difficult mission 
to the astonishment of all who knew the 
difficulties he had to surmount, and the little 
reliance he could place upon others. Besides, 
he was a self-taught general, but Lafayette 
had the full benefit of all his experience 

Mons. Bonjour. Oui, certainement, dat is 
juste. Waehington was de man for de time, 
and so was Lafayette ior de oder time. Dat 
is juste, parfaitement juste. 

Mr. Bunker. There is another point of 
view, Mr. President, in which 1 think the 
peculiar greatness of Washington was dis- 
played. I refer to his coolness and firmness 
in the trying scenes of the revolution. No 
danger, however appalling, ever shook the 
equanimity of his mind. When beset by 
enemies within and without the camp, he 
never betrayed any want of firmness or self- 
possession. He was always the same steady, 
cautious, undaunted friend of liberty ; and 
probably to this quality, more than to any 
other single trait of character, we owe the 
successful termination of a contest at first so 
desperate and hopeless. 

Mons. Bonjour. I am ver sorry to oppose 
de gentilhomme encore, mais, but, he mus 
allow de same vertu to my compatriot. Did 
not he persevere to come to dis contree ? Did 
he not stay till de war was fin-ee? Did he 
not oppose Louis Seize to his face, demand 
de constitution, and den defend de king agains 
de mob of two tree hundred tousand? Did 
he not oppose de Jacobin toujonrs, toujours, at 

de risk of his tete, what you call [Putting 

his finger across Ms throat.] Did he not 
refuse to do homage to Napoleon, because he 
have betray de cause of liberie ? Did he not 
command Napoleon to abdiquer de trone 1 
Did he not reject de overtures of Louis 
Dixhuit ? Did he not rale la France in de 
tree days? and did he not place Louis Philippe 
on de trone 1 Did he not condemn him lor 
not keep his word? Was he not toujours, 
toujours homme collect, patriote, ferme, immo- 
bile? Wiry, den, you no give him de same 
honor? hey! Ma foi! e'est injuste cela. 

Mr. Bunker. It is growing late, Mr. Presi- 
dent; but there is one other point in the 
character of Washington which seems to me 
to raise him above all competition. I refer to 
his well-regulated ambition. When at the 
head of an army, with a divided and destitute 
nation at his feet, instead of imitating the 
examples of Cassar and Napoleon, he meekly 
laid down his power, and retired to his farm. 
When called, by the unanimous voice of the 
nation, to preside over its councils, he directed 
them all for the public good. He knew no 
selfish feelings, he favored no party, he sought 
for no spoils, he laid no plans for permanent 
power, he left the care of a successor to the 
people; and when, as president, he might 
have continued to hold the supreme power, he 
again gave it back unstained, and retired to 
private life. 1 search in vain, sir, for a similar 
instance of moderation in the history of our 
race ; and if we must concede that Lafayette 
comes up to him in some other respects, I 
trust our opponents will allow, that, in this 



AND DIALOGUES. 



349 



podlike quality, Washington stands alone, 
alone and unapproaohed. 

Mr. York. I should be happy to oblige the 
gentleman, but I must contend, that, in this 
respect also, the pupil has equalled his 
master. He might have obtained high rank 
in this his adopted country, but he resigned 
all, and went to his own oppressed land. 
"When Louis XVI. was driven from Paris, 
Lafayette was at the head of the national 
guards, and held the destiny of France ; but, 
in the name of four million soldiers, he took 
the oath to the constitution. Having organized 
this enormous body of troops, he refused to 
command them, and retired to his farm. 
When afterwards marshal of France, the 
country was torn by infamous factions, but he 
would not make use of military coercion. He 
resigned, and in his civil capacity opposed 
the Jacobins. When Napoleon was proposed 
as consul for life, he voted against him, and 
retired to private life. When the Bourbons 
were restored, and courted him, he remained 
at La Grange. He refused to see Napoleon, 
who had come to offer him rank and power. 
He even refused to be king, at the late 
revolution, and recommended Louis Philippe; 
Rnd when that monarch failed to keep his 
word, Lafayette rebuked him for it, and 
retired to his estates. I do not say that this 
self-denial and moderation surpass that of 
Washington ; but, as the offers were more 
brilliant, their rejection must certainly give 
Lafayette a claim to be considered equal, in 
in this respect, even to Washington. 

Moiis. Bonjour. Egal, 6" gal; certainement 
eVal. I love Washington, but I am de com- 
patriot ot Lafayette, and voila le tri-color 
[pointing to his ribbon] that 1 wear as the 
memoire of him. 

Mr. Slowmatch. Mr. President, I am half 
inclined to think, sir, that we are no nearer 
coming to a decision now. than we were at 
the commencement of this debate. I think 
it has been satisfactorily proved, that both 
Washington and Lafayette were great men. 
Yet it cannot be questioned, I think, that 
Lafayette owed much of his greatness to 
Washington ; for the familiar intercourse of 
so young a man with such a mind as Wash- 
ington's, must have assimilated the young 
mind to its matured exemplar. We may 
safely giant to Lafayette an equal share of 
disinterestedness, of military skill, of firmness, 
and well-restrained ambition, and yet we may 
fairly consider Washington the greater man. 
For, sir, the fact exists, that Washington, 
without a model, made himself what he 
became ; but it will ever remain to be proved, 
that Lafayette, had he been in Washington's 
place, would have set such a godlike example. 
One point, however, in the character of 
Washington, remains untouched ; and I will 
allude to it, not to provoke further discussion, 
but because 1 think the character, admirable 
as it has been made to appear, must be imper- 
fect without this crowning trait. I allude to 
the moral sublimity, or, if yon prefer, the 
religious bearing of his character. There 
seemed to be, in all his conduct, a deep 
feeling of accountability to God, an unshaken 



confidence in his overruling providence, aa 
unalterable conviction, that the cause of truth 
and justice must finally triumph. I do not 
say, sir, that Lafayette was swayed by inferior 
motives; but 1 think it beyond controversy, 
that this religious feeling formed the basis 
of our Washington's character, and gave a 
sublimity to it, which, if Lafayette possessed, 
the circumstances of his life never so fully 
developed. Such is my respect, my love, sir, 
for both of the great names before us, that I 
very reluctantly see them placed in opposition, 
even for a friendly discussion. I trust how- 
ever, that the present review of their services 
will only serve to increase our gratitude to 
them, and to Him who raised them up for our 
political salvation. 

President. Gentlemen, the hour of adjourn- 
ment has arrived ; and, much at 1 regret the 
necessity of terminating this interesting debate, 
the constitution imperiously requires that the 
discussion should be arrested. I intended, 
gentlemen, to have thrown my mite into the 
great treasury of Washington's praise, but 
the remarks of the reverend gentleman who 
addressed you last, are so fair a summary of 
the debate, that 1 forego my intention with 
less reluctance. Are you ready for the question 
of adjournment? 

Air. Slack. I move, sir, that, before the 
meeting be adjourned, the sense of the 
meeting be taken upon the question. 

Mons. Bonjour. 1 will be de gentilman's 
second. 

President. If it be your minds, gentlemen, 
that the opinion of this meeting upon the 
subject of debate be now expressed in the 
usual way, you will please to make it mani- 
fest. [All hands up] 

President. It is a vote, gentlemen. Such 
of you, and of our respected audieuce, as are 
of opinion that Lafayette was, on the whole, 
a greater man than Washington, will please 
to signify it by holding up your hands. 
[Mons. Bonjour stands up alone, and says,] 

Mons. Bonjour. Je le crois, Monsieur le 
President, je le crois, je le crois! Vive le 
grand Lafayette! 

President. Those who are of opinion that 
Washington was, on the whole, the greater 
man, will please to signify it. 
[All hands up, and some cry out, All up ! 
All up!] 

Mr. Bunker. I move you, sir, that wo 
give three cheers to the united memories of 
the great Lafayette and the great Washing- 
ton. 

Mons. Bonjour. Ma foi ! I shall tree cheer 
bote de grands bommes wid hall my art. 
Vive le grand Washington! vive le grand 
Lafayette ! [ Then all give three clwsrs.\ 

Mr. Slack. I now move, sir, that thii 
meeting be adjourned. 

Mr. King. I second the motion. 

President. If it be your minds now to 
adjourn to the time and place appointed in 
the constitution, you will please to signify it. 
[All up.] 

President. [Looking at the audieTice.] I then 
declare this meeting to be adjourned. 

(F. F. D.> 



sso 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



759. PEDIGREE. 

Mary Aitnt Betty, why are you always 
(Bending that old picture? 

Aunt Betty. Old picture, miss! and pray 
wbo told you to call it an old picture ? 

Mary. ' Pray, aunt, is it not an old picture ? 
I am sure it looks ragged enough to be old. 

Aunt Betty. And pray, niece, is it not ten 
times more valuable on that account? I wish 
I could ever make you entertain a proper 
respect for your family. 

Mary. Do I not respect the few that 
remain of them, and yourself among the rest? 
But what has that old — what shall I call it? — 
to do with our family ? 

Aunt Betty. It is our family coat of arms 
— the only document which remains to estab- 
lish the nobility and purity of cur blood. 

Mary. What is purity of blood, aunt? 
I am sure I overheard Mrs. Pimpleton say 
your complexion was almost orange, and she 
believed it arose from some impurity of the 
blood. 

Aunt Betty. Tut, tut, you hussy! I am 
sure my complexion will not suffer by a 
comparison with any of the Pimpleton race. 
[Tossing up her head.] But that is neither 
here nor there : it matters not what the com- 
plexion is, or the present state of the blood, 
provided the source is pure. Do people drink 
the less water because it filtrates through 
clay ? 

Mary. But what is pure and noble blood, 
aunt ? 

Aunt Betty. Blood, my dear, which has 
proceeded from some great and celebrated 
man, through the veins of many generations, 
without any mixture with vulgar blood. 

Mary. Then whom did we proceed from, 
aunt Betty? 

Aunt Betty. From Sir Gregory McGrinceil, 
who lived in the time of Elizabeth, and 
left sons a dozen, from the youngest of 
whom, James McGrinceil, gentleman, we are 
descended. 

Mary. What does a gentleman mean, 
aunt? 

Aunt Betty. It means one who has too 
high a sense of his ancestry, to engage in 
any of what are vulgarly called the useful 
employments. 

Mary. It must mean a lazy man, then, 
I should think. Was he not extremely poor, 
aunt ? 

Aunt Belly. Poor? What is poverty in 
the scale of nobility? It is the glory of our 
house, that the^y have always preferred honor- 
able poverty to disgraceful industry. 

Mary. Why, aunt, every body does not 
think as you do. I heard the parson's wife 
say you would be a better Christian, and 
serve your Makef more faithlully, by doing 
something profitable, than by spending your 
time in idleness, and depending upon the 
Church for support. 

Aunt Betty. She had better mind her own 
business, and not slander her parishioners. 
Mighty well, indeed ! if the descendant of Sir 
Gregory McGrinceil is to be taught her duty 
to her ancestors by the daughter of a plough- 
man, and the wife of a country parson f 



Mary. I am sure she is very good 
woman, and my mother considers " her a 
pattern of humility. 

Aunt Betty. Did she display her humility 
in walking before me a*- the deacon's funeral? 
Answer me that. 

Mary. She had not the arrangement of lh6 
procession, aunt. 

Aunt Betty. She eight to have known her 
place, however. I shall take care how I go 
to any more vulgar funerals to be insulted, 
I promise you. 

Mary. I cannot see what should make us 
better than our neighbors, for my mother once 
told me that your grandfather was only a 
hostler. 

Aunt Betty. Your mother takes a great 
deal of pains to expose the dark spots in our 
escutcheon. But did she ever tell you, that, 
when my grandfather was engaged in that 
profession, it was customary for~gentlenien to 
be their own grooms ? No, I'll warrant not. 

Mary. Then there is no disgrace in any 
employment, if it be only fashionable ? 

Aunt Betty. None at all, my dear; for 
Count Rumford was a cook, and Sir Isaac 
Newton a spectacle-maker. 

Mary. But of what use is our noble blood 
in this country, aunt, where merit alone is 
respected ? 

Aunt Betty. Merit, indeed ! and what have 
we to do with merit? It is well enough for 
those of vulgar origin to possess meni ; the 
well-born do not need it. 

Mary. How did our great ancestor obtain 
his title, then ? 

Aunt Betty. Oh, to be sure, the founder 
of a family must do something to deserve his 
title. 

Mary. What did Sir Gregory do? 

Aunt Betty. Do ! why he painted so flatter- 
ing a likeness of Oueen Elizabeth, that she 
knighted him immediately. 

Mary. Then he was a painter by trade ? 

Aunt Betty. By trade! The minx will 
drive me distracted. Be it known to you, 
miss, we have never had a tradesman in our 
family, and I trust I never shall live to see 
it so degraded. Painting was merely Sir 
Gregory's profession. 

Mary. I hope I shall learn, in time, to 
make the proper distinctions ; but I fear it 
will be difficult, for my mother always taught 
me to allow no other distinction than that of 
personal worth, and, I must confess, I do not 
see the propriety of any other. 

Aunt Betty. No, and I presume you never 
will, while your mother entertains her present 
low ideas of meritorii"us industry, as she 
pleases to call the occupation of those who 
are mean enough to work for their living. 
I did hope to make you sensible of the dignity 
of your descent; but I now find I must look 
elsewhere for an heir to my invaluable legacy 
— this precious, precious coat of arms. 

[V. F. D.) 
760. THE ENGLISH TRAVELLER. 

Traveller. Do you belong to this house* 
friend ? 
Landlord. No, it belongs to rae, I guess. 



AND DIALOGUES. 



351 



'The Traveller lakes out his memorandum- 
book, and, in a low voice, reads what he 
writes.] 

Traveller. " Mem. Yankee landlords do not 
belong to their houses." [Aloud.] You seem 
young for a landlord: may I ask how old 
you are ? 

Landlord. Yes, if you'd like to know. 
Traveller. Hem! [Disconcerted] Are you 
a native, sir? 

Landlord. No, sir; there are no natives 
hereabouts. 

Traveller. "Mem. None of the inhabitants 
natives; ergo, all foreigners." [Aloud.] Where 
were you born, sir ? 

Landlord. Do you know where Marble- 
head is? 

Traveller. Yes- 

Landlord. Well, I was not born there. 
Traveller. Why did you ask the question, 
then 7 
Landlord Because my daddy was. 
Traveller. But you were born somewhere. 
Landlord. That's true ; but as father moved 
up country afore the townships were marked 
out, my case is somewhat like the Indian's, 
who was born at Nantucket, Cape Cod, and 
all along shore. 

Traveller. Were you brought up in this 
place, sir? 

Landlord. No; I was raised in Varmount 
till mother died, and then, as father was good 
for nothing after that, I pulled up stakes and 
went to sea a bit. 

Traveller. "Mem. Yankees, instead of 
putting up grave-stones, pull up stakes, and 
go to sea, when a parent dies." [Aloud.] You 
did not follow the sea long, for you have not 
the air of a mariner. 

Landlord. Why, you see, I had a leetle 
knack at the coopering business ; and laming 
that them folks that carry it on in the West 
Indies die off' fast, I calculated I should stand 
a chance to get a handsome living there. 

Traveller, And so you turned sailor to get 
there ? 

Landlord. Not exactly; for I agreed to 
work my passage by cooking for the crew, 
and tending the dumb critters. 

Traveller. Dumb critters! Of what was 
your lading composed ? 

Landlord. A leetle of every thing — horses, 
hogs, hoop-poles, and Hingham boxes ; boards, 
ingyons, soap, candles, and ile. 

Traveller. "Mem. Soap, candles, and ile, 
called dumb critters by the Yankees." [Aloud.] 
Did you arrive there safely ? 

Landlord. No, I guess we didn't. 
Traveller. Why not ? 

Landlord. We had a fair wind, and sailed 
a pretty piece, I tell you ; but, jest afore we 
reached the eend of our vige, some pirates 
overhauled us, and stole all our molasses, rum, 
and gingerbread. 

Traveller. Is that all they did to you ? 
Landlord. No, they ordered us on board 
their vessel, and promised us some black- 
strap. 

Traveller. "Mem. Pirates catch Yankees 
with a black strap." [Aloud.] Did you accept 
the invitation 1 



Landlord. No, I guess we didn't. And so 
they threatened to fire into as. 

Traveller. What did your captain do? 

Landlord. " Fire, and be darned !" says he, 
"but you'd better not spill the deacon's ile, 
I tell you " 

Traveller. And so you ran off, did you? 

Landlord, No ; we sailed off a small piece. 
But the captain said it was a tarnal shame to 
let them steal our necessaries ; and so he right 
about, and peppered 'em, I tell you. ' 

Traveller. " Mem. Yankees pepper pirates 
when they meet them." [Aloud.] Did you 
take them ? 

Landlord. Yes ; and my shear built this 
house. 

Traveller. "Mem. Yankees build houses 
with shears. u 

Landlord. It's an ill wind that blows 
nowhere, as the saying is. And now, may 
I make so bold as to ask whose name I shall 
enter in my books ? 

Traveller. Mine. 

Landlord. Hem! If it's not an impertinent 
question, may I ask which way you are 
travelling? 

Traveller. Home. 

Landlord. Faith ! have not I as good a 
right to catechize you as you had to catechize 
me? 

Traveller. Yes. " Mem. Yankees the most 
inquisitive people in the world — impertinent, 
and unwilling to communicate information to 
travellers." [Aloud.] Well, sir, if you have 
accommodations fit for a gentleman, I will put 
•up with you. 

Landlord. They have always suited gentle- 
men, but I can't say how you'll like 'em. 

Traveller. There is a tolerable prospect 
from this window. What hill is that, yonder? 

Landlord. Bunker Hill, sir. 
Traveller. Pretty hill ! If I had my instru- 
ments here, I should like to take it. 

Landlord. You had better not try. It 
required three thousand instruments to take 
it in '75. 

Traveller. " Mem, A common Yankee hill 
cannot be drawn without three thousand 
instruments." [Aloud.] Faith! Landlord, 
your Yankee draughtsmen must be great 
bunglers. But come, sir, give me breakfast, 
for I must be going ; there is nothing else in 
this vicinity worthy the notice of a traveller. 

(F. F. D.) 
761. PHRENOLOGY. — A DISCUSSION. 

Mb. Fairplay, President. Mr. Scriven, Secretary. 
Speakers— Mr. Straightway, Mr. Harden, Mr. 
Craney, Mr. Stifflip, Mr. Occiput, Dr. Littlehead, 
Dr. Suture, Dea. Slender, IIev. Mr. Greatsoul, 
Mr. Fearful, Mr. Wittee, Mr. Convolute, Dr. 
Powwow, Dr. Begarre, Dr. Sneaker, Mr. Lancet, 
Squire Sponge, Rev. Dr. Noddle. 

[The members are seen talking together in 
groups ; and at last, the Secretary raps on 
the table, and says,] 

Gentlemen— The hour has arrived when 
this meeting should be called to order ; and, 
as the president and vice president are both 
absent, it v\ ill be necessary for you to appoint 
a president pro tern. Will you please te 
nominate. 



352 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



[Different members nominate Dr Bump, Deacon 
Slender, Captain Gruff, Squire Screw, Mr. 
Fairplay.] 

Secretary. Gentlemen, I caught the name 
of Mr. Fairplay. If it be your minds that he 
preside, this evening, over your deliberations, 
you will please to signify it. 
[All hold up hands, and the Secretary says,] 
Seci-etary. It is a vote. Mr. Fairplay, will 
you have the goodness to take the chair? 
[Mr. Fairplay advances to the chair, takes off 
his hat and cloak, and, before sitting, ad- 
dresses (he society, who are all seated, thus,] 
Mr. Fairplay. Gentlemen — When I am 
honored in this way, I make it a point to 
accept, and to perform the duty to the best of 
my ability. Should I fail to give satisfaction, 
it will not only prove my incapacity to preside, 
but yours to make a proper selection of a 
presiding officer. I have no doubt, however, 
that your debate will be conducted with so 
much courtesy as to render my duty pleasant 
and easy. If you will give your attention, the 
secretary will read the subject of discussion 
appointed for this evening. 

Secretary. The question is, " Is phrenology 
entitled to the rank of a science 1" [He then 
repeats it in a loud and distinct voiced] 

President. Gentlemen, the subject is before 
you, and you are invited to express your 
opinions upon it. 

Mr. Straightway. Mr. President ! 
President. Mr. Straightway, gentlemen. 
Mr. Straightway. It appears to me, sir, 
that the question lacks precision, inasmuch as 
it is very uncertain what definition it attaches 
to the word science. Johnson, sir, tells us 
that science is "knowledge." Gibbon says 
it is synonymous with " speculation." I would 
propose, therefore, sir, that, before we proceed 
any farther, we ascertain in what sense the 
word science, is to be understood. 

President. The chairman of the committee 
who proposed the question, is present, and 
will be good enough to answer the gentleman's 
inquiry. 

Mr. Harden. Sir, the committee were 
aware that the term science is often loosely 
applied to knowledge of all sorts ; but they 
believed that there was a stricter sense in 
which it should be used ; and in behalf of the 
committee, I would propose that the definition 
of science shall be, " certain knowledge — 
knowledge founded on facts." 
Mr. Craney. Mr. President ! 
President. Mr. Craney, gentlemen. 
Mr. Craney. The definition, sir, that the 
gentleman has given, is certainly very strict; 
Bat I shall not object to it, if we be required 
to prove no more than can be proved of the 
other sciences. To open the debate, therefore, 
sir, I assert, that phrenology is a science, 
founded on facts, and as certain as any human 
knewledge. It is founded on facts sir, inas- 
much as most of the important discoveries in 
anatomy are the basis of it ; and its truths are 
demonstrable to the senses. It is certain, sir, 
in so far as its principles, if understood, may 
be applied to estimate the mental power by 
the size, and form, and other peculiarities of 
the head. 1 think, sir, no one will be bold enough 



to deny, that Doctors Gall and Spurzheim wer« 
skilful anatomists, and that they examined 
the structure of the brain, of the nerves, and 
of the skull, more carefully than any other 
had done ; and this, surely, did not disqualify 
them for judging of the uses of the brain and 
nerves. It is customary for quacks and 
impostors, sir, to start with less knowledge 
than those who are called regular prac- 
titioners; but they started, sir, with more. 
And if their opponents, whom I may also call 
their enemies, have since confessed that their 
discoveries in anatomy are real and impor- 
tant, we have reason to hope, sir, that they 
will, ere long, be also compelled to confess, 
that the application of their facts to the 
illustration of mind, is only foolish, because it 
is above the comprehension of fools. 

Mr. Stifflip. Mr. President ! 

President. Mr. StifHip, gentlemen. 

Mr. Stifflip. I rise, sir, to reply to the 
gentleman last up ; and I shall endeavor to do 
so effectually in a few words. I acknowledge, 
sir, that the researches of Gall and Spurzheim 
threw some light upon the structure and 
operations of the brains and nerves. But, si*, 
this acknowledgment may be made, without 
any obligation to follow them into the mazes 
whither they wandered, after they left the 
sure basis of facts, to soar into the regions of 
fancy. I may believe, sir, in the number, 
and magnitude, and movements of the planets, 
as taught by astrologers ; but, sir, I am nc4 
obliged to believe all their nonsense about 
the influence of these bodies upon the destiny 
of men. While Gall and Spurzheim confined 
themselves to anatomy, they did well; but 
when they began to speculate upon the mind, 
they went beyond their depth, and could not 
expect any reasonable man to follow them, 
I never will believe, sir, that the flights of th« 
almost infinite mind depend upon the size and 
operations of the brain. Why, sir, soma 
animals that have no tn-ain, astonish us by 
their performances. How will the gentlemen 
in the affirmative get over this fatal objec- 
tion? 

Mr. Occiput. Mr. President! 

President. Mr Occiput, gentlemen. 

Mr. Occiput. The gentleman asks, sir, how 
we shall get over his fatal objection. As the 
Indian got over the rainbow, sir, by getting 
under itf. When the gentleman asserts, sir, 
that some animals without brain astonish us 
by their performances, does he mean that 
they perform any intellectual operations 
like those performed by man? No, sir; no. 
Their performances are confined to eating, 
continuing their species, and dying. The 
gentleman must know, sir, that the lower 
animals, to which he alludes, are not, as he 
asserted, without brain. But, sir, their brain, 
like the god of some of our own species, is in 
their stomachs. I believe no animal has yet 
been found, sir, without a nervous system, 
and bundles or knots of nerves, which, though 
not in the head, are the seat of what intelli- 
gence they possess. If the gentleman will 
bring us a human being without any brain* 
in his skull, and yet possessing as much 
intelligence as if his skull was large and full. 



AND DIALOGUES. 



353 



cnen we must confess that phrenology is all 
a lie. 

Dr. Littlekead. [In a squeaking voice.] 
Jdr. President ! 

President, Dr. Littlehead, gentlemen. 

Dr. Littlehead. I should like to ask, Mr. 
President, whether the gentleman will pretend, 
as some have done, that the intellect depends 
upon the size of the cranium, and, of course, 
upon that ot the cerebrum and cerebellum. 

Mr. Occiput. We do pretend so, Mr. Presi- 
dent. 

Dr. Littlekead. Then, Mr. President, I mast 
protest against any such preposterous method 
of measuring the illimitable intellect. Sir, 
I maintain, myself apart, sir, that I have seen 
as many smart men with small heads as with 
large ones, sir. And whence have we the 
proverb. 

" A great hoad and little wit, 
A little head and full of it," 
if it be not a fact, sir, that a great head is no 
evidence of intellectual superiority? Sir, I 
protest, with all the intellectual power I 
possess, against the injustice aud folly of the 
gentleman's position. 

Dr. Suture. Mr. President! 

President. Dr. Suture, gentlemen. 

Dr. Suture. I rise, sir, to calm the fears 
of the gentleman last up, by assuring him, that, 
although a large head is generally an index 
of powerful intellect, and a small one of inferior 
capacity, still there are exceptions to the 
general rule, and I pray the gentleman to 
consider himself as one of them. The fact is, 
sir, there are three sorts of large heads — the 
diseased head, which is often monstrous, even 
in children; the large head, whose chief bulk 
is behind the ears, in which the animal 
propensities predominate; and the large head, 
whose chief bulk is above and before the ears, 
in which the intellect predominates. I might 
add, that there are several kinds of little 
heads, but I do not wish to be personal. 
I will remark, however, that sometimes a 
*irall head is connected with great nervous 
•r-itability; and, in such cases, the littlehead 
in sometimes a match for a large head that is 
nltached to a sluggish body ; but this, as I said 
•efore, is an exception. 

Deacon Slender. Mr. President ! 

President. Deacon Slender, gentlemen. 

Deacon Slender. [In a nasal, drawling tone.] 
Mr. President, we live in strange times, sir. 
When I was a boy, sir, we larnt every thing 
^rom the Bible, and the Bible threw light tipon 
»very kind of knowledge. But now, sir, it 
•teems as if the chief object of science was to 
prove that the Bible is wrong, and that it is 
contradicted by science and by facts. I want 
to know, sir, what we are coming to; for, 
if the effect of laming is to destroy the Bible, 
I shall vote against laying any more taxes to 
rapport public schools. 

Mr. Greatsoul. Mr. President! 

Presidmd. Rev. Mr. Greatsoul, gentlemen. 

Mr. Greatsoul. I rarely take any part in 
your debates, Mr. President; but the inquiry 
of my worthy lriend, just op, induce; me to 
make a remark upon an error- which, 1 fear, is 
too prevalent among many whose hearts axe 
BE.ONSON. * 23 



right, but whose fears are wrong. He seems 
to think, sir, that the sciences, and especially 
some new sciences of our day, have a tendency 
to destroy the authority of the Scriptures. 
Now, sir, I*will venture the remark, that the 
system of religion taught us in the Bible 
derives much of its beauty from the illustra- 
tions of science, and depends upon science 
for some of its strongest points of defence. 
Natural science cannot alter the revelation 
of God to man — a revelation of spiritual truths 
to the spirit. It has happened, to be sure 
that the discoveries of science have been 
thought not to agree with some statement* 
in the Scriptures ; but, sir, these statements 
relate to physical facts, to which the Bible 
only alludes as the prevailing belief of the 
day. There is no treatise upon geology, 
geography, astronomy, or metaphysics, in the 
Bible; nor does the Bible pretend to teach 
these sciences, or any other. It leaves them 
where it found them. Now, sir, I am no 
f hrenologist ; but I am prepared to say, that 
if , this science is founded upon facts, and is 
true, it must aid the cause of revelation; for 
it must enlarge the human mind, and enable 
it better to understand those truths which, 
while they are lowered to the comprehension 
of the simplest mind, are able, also, to stretch 
to its utmost reach the intellect of angels* 
I hope my worthy neighbor will cease to look, 
with fear, upon the progress of any science ; 
for, if it is of man, it will come to naught 
without his assistance; but, if it is true, or, 
j what is the same thing, if it is of God, man 
cannot overthrow it. 

Mr. Fearful. Mr. President ! 

President. Mr. Fearful, gentlemen. 

Mr. Fearful. [He has his hat on.] I hope 
I shall be excused, sir, for wearing my hat, 
but I have no idea of having my head inspected, 
sir, and turned to ridicule, for the amusement 
of this audience. Not that I believe, sir, that 
the professors of this pretended science can . 
tell my character any better from the outside 
of my head, than they can from the outside 
of my hat; but they have a habit, sir, of 
ridiculing the person whose arguments they 
cannot answer, and I am not to be ridiculed. 
sir, by them. 

Mr. Wittee. Does the gentleman mean 
sir, that we may not exercise our Yankee 
privilege of guessing what is concealed under 
his hat? 

Mr. Fearful. The gentleman may guess 
sir, for it is all guess-work ; and I dare saj 
sir, that if he judges of my character by the 
bumps of my hat, he will come as near to the 
truth as they generally do. 

Mr. Wittee. I guess, then, sir. the gentle- 
man has a small head, and is ashamed of it 
His hat is pretty large at the ears, where it 
should not be, and very small at the top, where 
the nobler faculties lie. His hat will not save 
him, sir. 

Mr. Fearful. [ Taking off his hat with some 
vehemence.] Sir, I have as good a head as 
the gentleman himself, sir. 

Mr. Wittee. 1 dare say he has, sir. I only 
made my remarks to see if his self-esteem 
would let him keep his hat on, under the 



364 



HEADINGS, RECITATIONS, 



imputation tliat his head was a diminutive 
head. 1 knew be could not do it, sir, if there 
is any truth in phrenology, any more than the 
crow of old could help singing, when old 
Roynard flattered her. 

Mr. Fearful. I rose, at first, sir, to remark, 
that phrenology can never be true, because 
the Creator would never so expose our 
characters, that others could read them on our 
heads. This would subvert the whole system 
of society, sir; for those who were gifted 
would despise their less fortunate neighbors, 
and those who were marked with criminal 
propensities, would not daie to show their 
heads. This is the remark I wished to make, 
sir ; and I assert, that no man can know what 
is in man, except from his actions. 

Mr. Convolute. Mr. President ! 

President. Mr. Convolute, gentlemen. 

Mr. Convolute. The gentleman's remarks, 
sir, prove too much, in my opinion; but, at 
any rate, they are founded in error. He 
pretends, sir, that the Creator has never given 
as any other means of judging of minds than 
the outward actions ; and he goes so far as to 
say, that it would be unjust for the Deity to 
do so. Now, sir, I would ask the gentleman, 
if he cannot often form a correct judgment of 
men from their personal appearance, their gait, 
and especially from their features ? I would 
ask, if he cannot tell a proud man by his 
hauteur, a sycophant by his cringing, an 
humble man by his modesty, a cautious man 
by his stealthy step ? I would ask whether 
he does not form a judgment of every man he 
meets, whether right or wrong, from his face ? 
Now, is he always deceived? No, I think 
not. Then the Creator does sometimes enable 
him to judge of his neighbor's character. 
Does this subvert the whole system of society, 
as the geutleman asserts it would, sir ? Does 
this induce the gentleman to look down upon 
his less gifted neighbor? or does it prevent 
wicked men from, showing their faces in 
public ? No, sir ; no such thing. I shall not 
hesitate to maintain, sir, that if the bumps 
indicated the true character, they would prove 
a safeguard to society ; for the hypocrite may 
disguise his features, and even his actions, 
but he cannot raise, and sink, and alter the 
bumps at pleasure. He must show what he 
is, and men will fix his rank accordingly. 
Rogues, sir, would be very likely to keep 
their hats on; and the worthy Quakers, 
rinding themselves in such company, would 
be very likely to take theirs off. 

Dr. Powwow. Mr. President ! 

President. Dr. Powwow, gentlemen. 

Dr. Powwow. The concluding remark of 
the gentleman last up, sir, seems to me to 
furnish one of the strongest arguments against 
the truth of phrenology ; for, sir, if the features 
sometimes betray the mind, they do not always 
do 60: but if the bumps invariably expose the 
mind, I think the Creator could not have been 
more unjust, than to give one man bumps, or 
organs, that would lead him to virtue, and 
another organs that would infallibly lead him 
to vice and ruin. I should like to know, 
sir, how the gentleman can get over this 
•bjection ? 



Dr. Begarre. Monsieur le President! 

President. Dr. Begarre gentlemen. 

Dr. Begarre. Monsieur le President, I me 
up get; rise to respond to de gentilhommo 
who has just himself seated dovvn. Ma toil 
Monsieur le President, what lor why he tink 
our science nobel do make men coquins, 
rogues, any more as de old system. Eef I 
fine out by de cranium, and he by de actions, 
dat one man is grand rogue, I no keep de man 
so, any no more dan he. He tink de Createui 
to de man have give one ver bad mind, and, 
ma foi ! I tink so too. Eh bien, well now, fa 
tink de man wid de mind unfortunate ei\u 
himself reform, make bettare. Ma foi ! 1 tink 
mo too. Mais, but de gentilhomme say you fix 
de bump so de man bad must be man bad 
toujours, always. Now, Monsieur le President, 
how de bump come on de head ? Because de 
faculty of de mind want him to work wiz 
If de faculty work hard, great deal, wiz him. 
he grow large, he grow strong, like de litteil 
boy when he work, eat like any ting, till he 
grow great man, grand homme. Den, if de 
oder good bonnes faculties say to de bad 
faculty, "You mus reform, you mus work not 
any more;" den he mus stop to grow, and one 
dese day he grow litteil encore, again. 

Dr. Powwow. Does the gentleman mean, 
that when his reetell boy has become a great 
man, if he leaves off working, he will become 
a leetell boy again ? 

Dr. Begarre. Oui, monsieur, I mean dat 
de organ will grow weak, feebell, as de litteil 
gargon, boy, what you call. De exercise of 
de faculty make de organ bump strong, and 
de non exercise of him make him weak ag'gen 
I hope de gentilmens, all two of dem, under- 
stand dat de bump no fix de faculty, but de 
faculty fix de bump, or unfix him, as he please. 
I sensible, Monsieur le President, dat I no 
speak de langue Anglaise propare, and I 
demand pardon. I tank you. I myself sit 
down. 

Mr. Wittee. Mr. President, I rise to ask 
if we are not departing from the question 
before us ? The question is, " Is phrenology 
entitled to the rank of a science?" But we 
are speculating upon other subjects 

President. If we are inquiring as to the 
truth of facts, and the certainty of knowledge 
we can hardly avoid discussing all the inci- 
dental questions to which phrenology hat 
given rise. But as our time has nearly 
expired, I hope the gentlemen will confine 
themselves, as strictly as possible, to the 
question. 

Dr. Sneaker. Mr. President ! 

President. Dr. Sneaker, gentlemen. 

Dr. Sneaker. I rise, sir, to remark, that, 
in my opinion, nothing can be more absurd, 
than for the friends of phrenology to pretend 
that there is any thing certain in any of their 
speculations. Go to one professor, and he 
will tell you that you are a rogue ; and go t« 
another, and he will tell you that you are 
a fool. If any thing could be told by the 
bumps, as bumps never deceive, like features, 
there could not be such a discrepancy. I 
have had all sorts of things said about nay 
head- 



AND DIALOGUES. 



355 



Mr. Lancet Mr. President ! 

President. Mr. Lancet, gentlemen. 

Mr. Lancet. I rise, Mr. President, to ask 
the gentleman last up, if it is any more absurd 
to believe in phrenology, because its professors 
differ iu regard to particular cases, than to 
believe that medicine is a science, when 
doctors so generally disagree, that nothing is 
certain in medicine, except that the patient 
must die ? The gentleman says that some pro- 
fessors have told him that he was a rogue, and 
others that he was a fool ; I would ask, Mr. 
President, if it is impossible for both to be light? 

Sqitire Sponge. Mr. President ! 

President. Squire Sponge, gentlemen. 

Squire Sponge. The gentleman seems to 
think that the science of medicine is uncertain, 
and really something must be conceded to him 
on this point; but, for a moment, I should like 
to contrast the uncertainty of phrenology with 
the established principles of my profession. 
The great principles of law, sir, are so well 
settled, that no one can be in doubt about 
them ; and, until phrenology attains to some- 
thing like the same stability, it must lay aside 
all pretensions to the rank of a science. 

Dr. Begarre. Monsieur le President, I stand 
myself up again, to say to the gentilhomme up 
at last, that if phrenologie was no more certan' 
dan his law, I should be much sorry. Ma foi! 
Monsieur le President, you cut off de head of 
your frin, and de /lawyer tell you all juste, all 
propare. Eh bien, you go wid your head cut 

off no, your frin go wid his head cut off 

to de oder lawyare, and he say de ting is 
injuste. De one lawyare show to you de case, 
de decision, ten, live, dozan, all for you. Den 
de oder lawyare, he have five, ten, dozan 
tuzzer way. Eh bien, well den, de juge say 
all two ways parfaitement juste, and de juree 
dey no gree. Voila ! what you call certainty ? 
Ma foi ! dare is notting certan', but dat both 
partees will be sheeted out of all de l'argent, 
what you call sponge. It must be allow dat 
de law is certaincment one grand science. 
I have hear dat dey throw de Salem vish in 
de vautare, and if he swim, he vish, certan', 
and he have de body squeeze out of his 
breath ; but if he himself drown under de 
vautare, he have de consolation to learn dat 
he is no vish. Monsieur le President, de 
vish is de man who go to de law; if he 
swim, he is ruin ; if he no swim, [shrugging 
his shoulders,] den dat is all. 

Dr. Noddle. I must confess, Mr. Presi- 
dent 

President. The Rev. Dr. Noddle, gentlemen. 

Dr. Noddle. I must confess, Mr. President, 
that the charge of uncertainty lies, with some 
force, against the two sciences of law and 
medicine ; but will the friends of phrenology 
hazard a comparison of their science with that 
of theology, that sure word of prophecy, as 
unerring as it is eternal and unchangeable. 
I think the gentlemen in the affirmative must 
concede that their science has no claims to 
certainty, compared with those of theology. 

Dr. Begarre. Ah, Monsieur le Ministere, 
I am great much sorry to myself oppose to 
you. Mais, but, I cannot hold on to my tongue, 
when you make comparaison between teologie 



and my science. Certan' ! Ah ! ma foi ! what 
you call certan' ? Monsieur le President, 
pardon' ; what sex you are ? 

President. Sex ! 

Dr. Begarre. Oui, what religion party you 
belong ? 

President Oh ! I am an Episcopalian. 

Dr. Begarre, Eh bien. [Speaking to Dr. 
Noddle.] Et vous, Monsieur le Docteur Nod 
dell' ? 

Dr. Noddle. It is well known that I am a 
Presbyterian. 

Dr. Begarre. Eh bien. [Looking at Dr 
Powioow.J Et vous, Monsieur le Docteur 
Powwow ? 

Dr. Powwow. I am a Baptist, I suppose. 

Dr. Begarre. Tres bien. Et vous. Monsieur 
le Reverend Greatsol, what sex you follow? 

Mr. Greaisoul. I am called a Methodist. 

Dr. Begarre. Enough. [Shrugging his 
shoulders.] Pardon'. You have prove de 
certainty of de science of teologie. Ma foi! 
dere is notting certan' but dat you all diffare 
j:ow, nevare, all time. I vill not spokes no 
more. 

President. Gentlemen, the hour to which 
your debate is limited by the by-laws, has 
elapsed, and the debate must be arrested. Is 
it your mind that the question be put in the 
usual manner ? If so, please to manifest it. 
[All hold up hands.] 

President It is a vote. Such, then, as are 
of opinion that phrenology is entitled to the 
rank of a science, will please to hold up their 
hands. [Some hold up.] 

President Such as are otherwise minded. 
[Some hold up.] 

President. The question is decided in the 
affirmative. 

[Several cry out, Doubted! Doubted!] 

President. The decision is doubted, gentle- 
men. Will you be good enough 

Mr. Straightway. Mr. President, 1 would 
ask, whether the decision of this question 
here, will settle the question even here. I move 
that the meeting be adjourned. 

Dr. Begarre. I will be his second. 

President It is moved and seconded, that 
this meeting be adjourned. If this be your 
mind, gentlemen, you will please to signify it. 
[All hands up.] 

President The meeting, then, is adjourned. 
(f. f. d.) 



762. 



I'LL TRY! OR, YANKEE MARKSMAN. 



Lord Percy, with his regiment, firing at a target 
on Boston Common. Jonathan, an awkward looking 
country boy, that had outgrown his jacket and 
trousers. 

Percy. Now, my boys, for a trial of your 

skill ! Imagine the mark to be a Yankee ; and 

here is a guinea for whoever hits his heart. 

[Jonathan di-aws near to see the trial; and 

when the first soldier fires, and misses, he 

slaps his hand on his thigh, and laughs 

immoderately. Lord Percy notices him. 

When the second soldier fires, and misses, 

Jonathan throws up his old hat, and laughs 

again ] 

Percy. [Very crossly.] Why do you lauga, 
fellow : 



35b 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



Jonathan. To think bow safe the Yankees 
are, if you must know. 

Percy. Why, do you think you could shoot 
better f 

Jonathan. I don't know ; I could try 

Percy. Give him a gun, soldier, and you 
may return the fellow's laugh. 

Jonathan. [Takes the gun, and looks at 
every part of if. carefully, and then says,] It 
v\ on't bust, will it ? Father's gun don't shine 
like this, but I guess it's a better gun. 

Percy. Why ? Why do you guess so ? 

Jonathan. 'Cause I know what that'll deu, 
and I have some doubts about this-ere. But 
look o* here ! You called that-air mark a 
Yankee ; and I won't fire at a Yankee. 

Percy. Well, call it a British regular, if 
you please ; only fire. 

Jonathan. Well, a reg'lar it is, then Now 
for freedom, as father says. [He raises the 
gun,- and fires.] There, I guess that-air red 
coat has got a hole in it! [Turning to the 
stolJiers.] Why don't you laugh now. "as that- 
air fellow said you might [Pointing to Percy.] 

Percy. You awkward rascal, that was an 
accident. Do you think you could hit the 
mark again ? 

Jonathan. He ! I don't know ; I can try. 

Percy. Give him another gun, soldiers ; 
and take care that the clown does not shoot 
you. I should not fear to stand before the 
mark myself. 

Jonatlian. I guess you'd better not. 

Percy. Why t Do you think you could 
bit me ? 

Jonathan. I don't know ; I could try. 

Percy. Fire away, then. 
[Jonathan fires, and again hits the mark.] 

Jonathan. Ha, ha, ha! How father would 
kugh to see me shooting at half-gun-shot ! 

Percy. Why, you rascal, do you think you 
could hit the mark at twice that distance ? 

Jonathan. He! I don't know; I'm not 
afeard to try. 

Percy. Give him another gun, soldiers, and 
place the mark farther off. 

\J onathan fires again, and hits as before.] 

Jonathan. There, I guess that-air reg'lar 
is as dead as the pirate that father says the 
judge hangs till he is dead, dead, dead, three 
times dead ; and that is one more death than 
Scripter tells on. 

Percy. There, fellow, is a guinea for you. 

Jonathan. Is it a good one? [Kinging it.] 

Percy. Good ? Yes. Now begone ! 

Jonathan. I should like to stay, and gee 
them fellows kill some more Yankees. 

Percy. [Aside ] The fellow is more rogue 
than fool. [To Jonathan.] Sirrah, what is 
your name ? 

Jonathan. Jonathan. 

Percy. Jonathanwhat ? 

Jonathan. WotUl you give to know ? 

Percy. What is your father's name '1 

Jonathan. He was named arter me. 

Percy. You lying rogue, how could that be, 
if you are bis son ? 

Jonathan. Why, you see, his name was 
George, and he was afeard they'd think he 
was called arter King George, and so the 
Gin'ral Court altered it to Joe. 



Percy. Do you think your father can shoo* 
as well as you do ? 

Jonathan. 1 don't know; but I guess h* 
wouldn't be afeard to try. 

Percy. Where did you learn your skill ? 

Jonathan. Oh, father larnt me, when I 
wasn't knee high to a woodchuck. 

Percy. Why did he teach you so young? 

Jonathan. 'Cause, he said, I might have fr? 
shoot red-coats, one of these days. 
• Percy. Ah ! Pray, my boy, do all th^ 
farmers in your town shoot as well as you dot 

Jonathan. Yes, and better, teu. 

Percy. Would they like to shoot at red- 
coats, as you call them ? 

Jonathan. I've heerd 'em say they'd liko 
to try. 

Percy. Come, my good fellow, while yoa 
are well off, you had better join us, and figh/ 
for your king; for we shall hang every Yankee 
we catch. 

Jonathan. I guess you won't catch any. 

Percy. Well, we can try, as you say ; and. 
since we have caught you, we will hang you 
for a traitor. 

Jonathan. No you won't. You paid me 
yourself for killing them three red-coats ; so I 
guess you won't hang me for that. 

Percy. No, my good fellow, 1 like you too 
well. I am sorry that my duty to my king 
obliges me to injure men who show, in every 
thought and action, that they are true English- 
men. You may go free; but the nexttime 
you see my troops firing at a mark for exercise 
you must not be so uncivil as to laugh at them, 
when they miss. What say you? 

Jonathan. I don't know whether I can 
help it. 

Percy. Well, you can try, can't you ? 

Jonathan I s'pose I can ; for Deacon 
Simple tried to milk his geese, but his wife 
didn't make no more butter for his trying, 
I guess. 

Percy. Begone ! or I shall have to put yoa 
under guard. Officer, give him a pass to 
Charlestown; but never let him come among 
our troops again. His example is a bad 
one. (f. f. d.) 

763. DEESS AND ASSURANCE. 

George. How are you, Dick ? Why, what's 
the matter, boy ? Whose sins are you lament- 
ing now ? 

Richard. Yours, George. I cannot but 
tremble for you, when I consider what must 
be the inevitable consequence of your present 
line of conduct. 

George. Pshaw, Dick! Now don't, mj 
good fellow, distress yourself on my account; 
for I am determined to enjoy life, and I should 
be sorry to have my enjoyment the source 
of pain to an old friend. 

Richard. What do you mean by enjoy 
ment? 

George. Enjoyment! Why, plenty of aD 
the good things of this world, and a comfort- 
able sit down, now and then, with one's 
friends. 

Richard. But, do you not recollect that 
your resources are by no means equal tv yoia 
dress, and other extraordinary expenses f 



AND DIALOGUES. 



357 



George. We bloods look to our dress for 
resources, aud not to our resources for dress, 
as you do. 

Richard. Can you do this honestly ? 

George. Hon-est-ly ! [Drawling it out.] 
We have no such word in our vocabulary. 

Richard. So it would seem. But, tell me, 
how do you contrive to keep up such an 
appearance of wealth and fashion, when I can 
barely subsist ? What is the chief requisite ? 

George. Assurance, my dear. Lay in a 
good stock of assurance, and you have a mine 
at your disposal. 

Richard. But will assurance clothe me ? 

George, Yes, and feed you, too. Hark ye, 
Dick. If your clothes are worn out, or unfash- 
ionable, go to a tailor, and order a suit of the 
best cloth, to be sent to your lodgings. Say 
nothing about the price, mind you — say nothing 
about that. None but the vulgar, who intend 
to pay, ever say any thing about the price. 

Richard. Well, but must not I pay for 
them ? 

George. Pay for them ? No, man. When 
Pricklouse calls for his money, order another 
suit. Try this expedient till he refuses to 
work for you, then swear at him for a trouble- 
some puppy, and forbid him your house. 

Richard. Clothes, however, are not all I 
shall need. 

George. That's true, Dick. But they will 
procure every thing else. What's a man 
without clothes? A smooth shilling, that 
hardly passes for what it really weighs, while 
every body gives currency to one fresh from 
the mint. Clothes, Dick, are a sine qua non 
with us bloods. 

Richard. How so? Every body appears 
to laugh at your fashionable trim, and to 
wonder how you dare appear so ridiculous. 

George. Yes ; and yet the same people do 
us homage. No door is closed against a fine 
coat. Few tradesmen inquire how we came 
by it; and where is the lady who does not 
prefer it to an old ; unfashionable one, let who 
will be in it? 

Richard. But still I should appear awkward 
in company. 

George. Not if you have assurance. An 
impudent fellow may do a thousand awkward 
things, that would ruin a modest man. Nay, 
Dick, we sometimes have our blunders 
imitated. You recollect the story of Lord 
Spencer, who, losing the skirts of his coat 
accidentally, had assurance enough to wear 
what was left on his shoulders, and obtained 
the honor of introducing the garment which 
bears his name. 

Richard. He was more successful than the 
fox we read of in the fable, who, having lost 
his tail, wished to persuade his brethren of the 
inutility of that appendage. 

George. He was ashamed of his loss, Dick. 
Depend upon it, that fox wanted assurance. 
But my principles are gaining ground fast; 
or how else can you account for the fact, that 
men of threescore are turning fops, and most 
of the rising generation attend to nothing but 
dress. Time was, when the cloak and surtout 
were the peculiar garb of manhood. Now no 
fccy is without them. 



Richard. You might add, that drinking and 
tobacco, gaming and debt, were once the vice» 
of men; but now every fashionable urchin caa 
drink his bottle, smoke his cigar, and bet like 
a gamester. Of debts, I have nothing to add 
to the description you have just given me. 

George. You have omitted one accomplisl*- 
ment, however. The lad of fashion must swear 
a little. Nothing will show one's consequence 
like a volley of oaths, now and then. But 
dress is the remote cause of all this. I am 
sorry to own it, but you seldom see a man 
of sense who is a fop. When you dress a 
calf's head, you must always take out the 
brains. 

Richard. But how do all these conse 
quences proceed from dress? 

George. I will tell you, since I have begun 
to reveal our secrets. The time was, Dick, 
when modesty was considered an accom- 
plishment in children, and deference to their 
superiors a duty. But now, almost as soon as 
they can walk, children are expected to get 
rid of their modesty, and learn to disregard 
the presence of their elders and superiors. 

Richard. How does this affect their dress ? 

George. The competition commences at 
school ; and then, as the tuition will all be 
lost without practice, and there is some fear 
of the lad's relapsing into his former modesty, 
he must be introduced into company, and 
frequent balls and assemblies, where dres? is 
indispensable. And as, with a genteel coat, 
and a thoroagh knowledge of the capacity 
of his heels, he meets with a better reception 
than real worth does in a plain garb, it is no 
wonder that so many of our young men decorate 
their persons, instead of adorning their minds, 
and parade at the corners of our streets, 
instead of attending to their business 01 
studies. 

Richard. But is not all this an argument 
against dress ? 

George. Yes, Dick ; but what has argument 
to do with fashion ? You might as well talk of 
reason to the idiot, who is not a subject of it. 

Richard. Do you ever consider what the 
end of all this folly must necessarily be ? 

George, Oh.no! Futurity is another word 
we have nothing to do with. But I have made 
my confessions, and have no idea of hearing a 
lecture upon them. So, good bye to you. 
The first glass I drink, shall be to your health 
and reformation. 

Richard. You had better continue thirsty, 
and promote your own. I thank you, how- 
ever, for the hints you have given me ; and, 
I trust, in future, I shall remain contented with 
my obscurity, and no longer envy those whose 
exterior is their only recommendation. 

(F. F. D.) 
764. THE DANDY. 

Squire Gruff, who has been a Representative 
Mr. Ether, a City Barber, " showing off " in a 
Country Village. 

[Scene — The village bar-room.] 

Ether. [Always drawling affectedly.} Or,* 
Apocrypha ! do you vegetate in this village 

Gruff. Yes. 

Ether. You don't say so! 

Giruff. Yes, I do. 



35S 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



Ether. I can't live out of the metropolis. 
Vour sun tans me — tans me like a Hottentot — 
indeed it does. 

Gruff. It does not prevent your looking 
green. 

Ether. Your air, too, stifles me ; and your 
dust is altogether inconsistent with tree respira- 
tion — it is, indeed it is. 

Gruff. You'll die one of these days. 

Ether. You are disposed to be facetious, 
friend. But I have found it impossible to live 
in America, since I visited Italy. Our houses 
are beaver-dams, decidedly. I can't look at a 
building here — I can't really. 

Grrtff. Have you seen the State House ? 

Ether. I called to see it one morning, 
but 

Gruff. Wasn't it at home ? 

Ether. You are a very facetious gentle- 
man — you are, upon my soul ; but I had rather 
take a pilgrimage to Mecca, than climb up to 
rtiat cupola. I couldn't survive the fatigue — 
1 couldn't, by Hercules! 

Gruff. You had better go up, then, at once. 

Ether. I went up ten steps, and sank under 
ir — swooned, absolutely swooned ; and that 
barbarian of a guide had no fan to lend me. 
J l is homicide, rank homicide, by Hercules ! 

Gruff. Are there no stairs in Italy ? 

Ether. You are disposed to be facetious, 
friend. But you never travelled — I'll bet a 
naif sized ice-cream you haven't. 

Gruff. I'll take the bet. 

Ether. You won't though, will you? Well, 
I'm glad to meet with a traveller ; for there's 
nothing here worth talking about. When one 
has been abroad, home is execrable — perfectly 
hideous, I assure you. 

Gruff. Better stay away, then. 

Ether. You are right, friend— decidedly 
right. I wish the boiler of the steam-packet 
that transported me back, had collapsed — 
npon my soul, I do — even though my epidermis 
had been damped by the steam. 

Grvff. Can you swim ? 

Ether. You are too facetious, old horse- 
radish ? But it is relapsing into barbarism to 
come home again — it is dying by inches — it is, 
indeed it is. 

Grvff. How tall are you? 

Ether. I shall evaporate in a consumption 
in six weeks — I shall, indeed. 

Gruff. You had better hang yourself. 

E titer. No, that would be vulgar — decidedly 
vulgar — unmitigated vulgarity ! — it would, in- 
deed. I would put my head into a bowl of 
German cologne, if I thought I could keep it 
under, 

Gruff. I'll hold it down for you. 

E'her. Thank you kindly. 1 hate to trouble 
a friend, in such an unpleasant business. 

Gruff. No trouble. I've drowned a hundred 
puppies in my day. 

E'her. Do you mean to apply that offensive 
appellation to me, sir? 

Gruff. You applied it — I didn't. 

Ether. Oh, you didn't apply it. Well 
apologized ; for I am averse to bloodshed — 
decidedly averse to shedding blood, sir. 

Gruff. Look here, young chap ! what is 
your name ? 



Ether. Name! sir? — name! It is decidedly 
impolite to ask a gentleman his name. I cannot 
answer so impolite a question — upon my soul, 
1 cannot. 

Gruff. Give me your card, then. 

Ether. Excuse me — I left the last perfumed 
one at Miss Vanilla's, just before 1 had the 
extraordinary happiness of meeting you, 

Gruff. Give me one that is not perfumed. 

Ether. Excuse me, my dear sir — you dis- 
tress me exceedingly. 1 am not accustomed 
to such personalities — decidedly unaccustomed 
— altogether unused, I assure you. 

Gruff. Is not your name Ether ? 

Ether. Sir! you are disposed to be face- 
tious, sir— decidedly facetious, sir, upon my 
honor. What could superinduce the unac- 
countable liberty that you have taken, in 

suspecting that my name may be eh • 

what did you conjecture that it was ? 

Gruff. I've shaved at your shop. 

Etlcer. Some stupendous conspiracy has 
been formed to disturb my equanimity — it 
has, indeed it has. 

Gruff. You seem to be all in a lather. 

Ether. 'Sdeath, and gunpowder-tea ! why 
do you persecute me in this decidedly unplea- 
sant manner? Beware, sir! I may become 
passionate — decidedly passionate, sir — and 
then I cannot answer for the consequences! — 
yes, sir, for the consequences! I may do a 
deed that may be irrevocable, irremediable, 
sir — unequivocally irreme'diable as death itself, 
sir ! — I may indeed, sir ! 

Gruff. Young man, you had better go home 
to your shop. You never saw any thing of 
Italy, but the Naples soap you sell. If you 
are ashamed of your business, let me tell you 
that every honest trade is a respectable one; 
and, in my opinion, the plainest barber is, in 
every respect, superior to an affected monkey 
— decidedly superior — upon my soul, superior- 
it is indeed, sir. — So, good bye to you. 

[He goes out.] , 

Ether. Well, this is deeidedly plain — upon 
my soul, it is ; and, if it was not for one thing 
more than another, I'd follow that old crabstick 
— I would, decidedly — upon my honor, 1 would. 
1 deserve two immortalities — indeed 1 do — 
for not becoming passionate, unrestrainedly 
passionate, under such provocation. But I 
will punish him. I'll take him by the nose, 
if he ever enters my shop again, and if I don't 
lacerate his jugular for him, it will be because • 
I'm afraid to — indeed it will, it will indeed. 
[He goes out, pulling up his dickey with a 
determined air.] (f. f. d.) 

765. THE FEMALE EXQUISITES. 

Mrs. Kersey. Beckt, her Daughter. KATT,her 
Niece. Madge, the Servant Girl. 

Mrs Kersey. Tell me what you have 
done to the gentlemen who have just left the 
house in such a rage ? Did L not request you 
to receive them as your destined husbands? 

Becky. How could we treat them civilly, 
mother, when they offered themselves at the 
first visit ? 

Mrs. Kersey. And what was there improper 
in that ? 

Btcky. Oh, horrible! If the affair were 



AND DIALOGUES. 



359 



managed in this vulgar manner, a romance 
would soon have an end. 

Katy. Aunt, my cousin is perfectly right. 
How can one receive people entirely unac- 
quainted with the delicacies of gallantry ? 
I dou't helieve they ever heard of Tenderland, 
and the sighs, and billet-doux, and sentimental 
raptures, that are the peculiar growth of its 
soil. 

Becky. Does not their whole appearance 
indicate this ? Come to make a formal visit, 
and expect to be admitted the first time ! 

Katy. And then, to wear a coat without 
frogs, and hands without gloves ! Besides, 
I noticed that their stocks were not in the 

newest style 

Becky. And their vests were fully an inch 
too long. 
Mrs. Kersey. You are. both crazy — Katy, 

and you, Becky ' 

Becky. Oh, for goodness' sake, mother, 
do leave off calling us by these outlandish 
names ! 

Mrs. Kersey. Outlandish names, miss ! are 
they not your true and proper Christian 
names! 

Becky. Hfavens! how vulgar! What 
astonishes me is, that you should ever have 
had so intellectual a daughter as myself. 
Who ever heard of Becky or Katy in refined 
conversation ? and either name would be 
enough to blast the finest romance that ever 
was written. 

Katy. It is true, aunt ; for it is distressing 
to an ear of any delicacy to hear such words 
pronounced. And the name of Seraphina 
Cherubina, which my cousin has adopted, and 
that of Celestina Azurelia, which I have 
bestowed upon myself, have a grace which 
even you must perceive. 

Mrs. Kersey. Hear me — I have but one 
word to say. I will hear of no other names 
than were given you by your godfathers and 
godmothers ; and as to the gentlemen, I know 
their worth, and am resolved, that you shall 
marry them. I am tired of having you upon 
my hands. 

Becky. Allow us to breathe awhile among 
the fashionables of the city, where we have 
hardly arrived. Give us time to weave the 
web of our romance, and do not hasten the 
catastrophe of our being with such unrefined 
precipitation. 

Mrs. Kersey You are a finished pair of 
fools, and shall be married or go to the mad- 
house immediately ! [She goes out.] 

Katy. Mercy on us ! how completely 
material your mother is! How dull is her 
understanding ! and how dark her soul ! 

Becky. I can hardly persuade myself that 
I am really her daughter, and I am persuaded 
that some adventure will hereafter develope 
a more illustrious parentage. 
[Enter Madge.] 
Madge. There is a man below, who says 
liis lady wishes to speak with you. 

Becky. Dolt! Cannot you deliver a message 
with less vulgarity? You should say, "A 
necessary evil wishes to be informed whether 
it is your pleasure to be accessible." 

Madge. I don't understand French, ma'am. 



Becky. Impertinent ! How insupportable I 
And who is his lady 7 

Madge. He called her the Marchioness 
Q.uizzilla. 

Becky. [To Katy.] Oh, my dear, a mar- 
chioness ! — a marchioness ! It is, no doubt. 
some intellectual lady, who has heard of our 
arrival. Think of it — a marchioness ! my dear. 

Katy. Let us adjust our dress, and sustain 
the reputation which has preceded u&. [To 
Madge.] Run and bring us the counsellor of 
the Graces. 

Madge. Gracious, ma' am ! I don't know 
what sort of a critter that is. You must talk 
Christian, if you wish me to understand you. 

Katy. Bring us the mirror, then, ignora- 
mus ! and take care that you do not sully 
the glass by letting your ugly image pass 
before it. 

[Madge, going out, meets the Marchioness 
entering, veiled.] 

Madge. Madam, these are my mistresses. 

Marchioness. Ladies, you will be surprised, 
( no doubt, at the audacity of my visit, but your 
reputation has brought it upon you. Merit 
has such charms for me, that I break down all 
barriers to get at it. 

Becky. If you are in pursuit of merit, you 
must not hunt for it on our domain. 

Katy. If you find any merit here, you must 
have brought it. 

Becky. Madge ! 

Madge. Ma'am. 

Becky. Approximate hither the sedentary 
aids of conversational intercourse. 

Madge. Ma'am! 

Becky. Bring some chairs, dolt! 

Katy. Come, madam, do not be inexorable 
to that chair, which is stretching out its arms 
to embrace you. 

[The marchioness sits affectedly.] 

Marchioness. Well, ladies, what do you 
think of the city. [Exit Madge.] 

Becky. We have not yet had an oppor- 
tunity of seeing its ineffable attractions. 

Marchioness. Leave that to me. I will 
establish an academy of wits at your house, 
and not a rhyme shall be made in the citv 
without your knowledge. I sometimes scratch 
a line ortwo myself, and you will find at least 
two hundred songs of mine, as many sonnets, 
four hundred epigrams, and more than a 
thousand madrigals, to say nothing of enigmas, 
charades, <Scc , running the rounds of the first 
circles. 

Becky. Only think, my dear — over a thou- 
sand madrigals ! 

Katy. And in the first circles, too ! 

Marchioness. Hearing of your arrival, I 
have come to do you the homage of presenting 
you an impromptu that I made upon myself 
yesterday. I am unequalled in impromptus. 

Katy. An impromptu is the touchstone 
of wit. 

Marchioness. Listen, then. 

Katy and Becky. W e ate all attention. 

Marchioness. You will understand that 1 
suppose a gentleman to make the verses upon 
receiving a glance from my eyes. 

Kaly and Becky. What an ingenious 
device ! 



360 



READING3, RECITATIONS, 



Listen:— [With much affcc- 



Marchioness 
tation.] 

m Ah ! ab ! suspicionless rt smart, 

Ami seeking in your charms relief, 
Tour eye, cataceous, stole my heart. 
Mop thief! 6top thief! 6top thief! stop thief!" 
Katy. Oh, heavens! desist; it is too 
exquisite. 

Marchioness. Did you notice the commence- 
ment — " Ah ! ah !" There is something line 
in that "Ah! ah!" — as if a man suddenly 
thought of something — "Ah! ah!" Surprise 
—•Ah! ah!" 

Becky. Yes, I think the "Ah! ah!" 
admirable. 

Katy. I should rather have made that 
'"Ah! ah !" than Paradise Lost. 

Marchioness. You have the true taste, 
I see. 

Katy and Becky. Our taste is not the 
most corrupt. 

Marchioness. But did you not also admire 
" suspicionless of smart?" — innocent, you 
understand, as a sheep — not aware of danger; 
and "seeking in your charms relief" — 
expecting, you understand, that I should 
smile him into life. " Your eye, cataceous :" 
what do you think of the word cataceous ? 
was it not well chosen? 
Katy. Perfectly expressive 
Becky. Cataceous, that is, slyly, like a cat. 
I can almost see a feline quadruped watching 
its prey. 

_Kaly. Nothing could be more superinge- 
niously conceived. 

Marchioness. "Stole my heart'' — robbed 
me of it — carried it right away. " Stop thief! 
stop thief! stop thief!" 
Becky. Oh, stop ! stop ! — let us breathe. 
Marchioness. Would you not think a 
man was crying after a robber to arrest 
him? 

Katy. There is a transcendental spirituality 
in the idea. 
Becky. Do repeat the "Ah! ah!" 
Marchioness. " Ah ! ah !" 
Becky and Katy. Oh! Oh! 
Marchioness. " Suspicionless of smart." 
Becky. " Suspicionless of smart." 

[Looking at Katy.] 
Katy. " Suspicionless of smart." 

[Looking at Becky.] 
Marchioness. " And seeking in your charms 
relief." 

Becky and Katy. Oh! "In your charms 
relief!" 
Marchioness. " Your eye, cataceous." 
Becky. " Cataceous " — Oh ! 
Katy. Oh ! " Cataceous." 
Marchioness. " Stole my heart." 
Becky. Stole his heart ! 
Katy. Stole his heart ! Oh ! 1 faint ! 
Marchioness. " Stop thief ! stop thief ! stop 
f'lief!" 
Becky. Oh! "Stop thief! stop thief!" 
Katy. "Stop thief! stop thief! 6top 
thief!" 

All together. -'Stop thief! stop thief! stop 
thief!" [Enter Madge.] 

Madge. Stop thief! What is the matter? 
Who has 1 ten ro'tbed? 



I Becky. Oh, how your material presence 
brings us to earth again. 

[Mrs. Kersey uncovers her face.] 

Madge. Why, ma'am, what trick are you 
playing the young ladies ? 

Mrs. Kersey. I am only teaching the silly 
exquisites, that some folks may make as 
refined fools as some folks, and that affectation 
is not learning. "Ah! ah! Cataceous! Stop 
thief! stop thief ! stop thief !'' 

Becky. I am impertorbably petrified. 

Katy. And I indiscriminately confounded. 

Mrs. Kersey. Becky Seraphina Cherubina, 
and Katy Celestina Azurelia, my advice to 
you is, to aim at nothing above common sense, 
and not to suspect that all the world are ;bols, 
because you happen to be so. (f. f. d.) 

766. MAN IS BEST AS HE IS. 

Mr. Howell and his two Sons, Manlidb and 
James. 

Mr. Hotcell. [With a basket of apples.] 
I will place this basket above the reach of my 
boys, for the fruit is not yet quite ripe, and 
prevention is not only easier than cure, but it 
is our duty to keep temptations out of the 
reach of young and old. [He places l/ie basket 
on some high place, and goes out just as hi* 
sons enter ] 

Manhus. What, in the name of wonder 
did father have in that basket ? 

James. Something rare, no doubt, with 
which he intends to surprise us. 
Manlius. What do you guess it was ? 
James. I never guess, when I can be sure. 
See, there is the basket! Let's have a look 
at it. 

Manlius. If father had wished us to ^ee it, 
he would not have placed it so high. 

James. Well, there's no harm in Looking. 
I guess I can reach it by jumping. 

Manlius. I thought you never guessed, 
when you could be certain. My advice is, to 
let the basket alone till father comes. 

James. I can't wait so long. [He tries to 
jump, but falls far short of it A 

Manlius. I should gues§ \ hat you will never 
reach it so, if I were not certain that you 
will uot. 

James. There are more ways than one t« 
market. [He takes a chair, and tries first 
standing on the seat ; then, in endeavoring to 
mount on the back, he overturns the chair, and 
falls upon the floor.] 

Manlius. I guess you have hurt yourself 
now. 

James. I don't guess, for I am sure of it. 
[He limps.] I wish I was a giant, and then 1 
could reach what I wanted without breaking 
my neck. 

Manlius. I guess it would hurt you more 
to fall then, than it does now ; so what would 
you gain by that? 

James. I should want neither ladder nor 
pole, when cherries and apples were ripe. 

Manlius, They never would ripen ; you 
would knock them all off with your head. 

James. I could walk through the streets, 
and look into all the chamber windows. 

ManVns. You might pee ivhat people did 
not wish you to see the re , but you would 



AND DIAL0GUE3. 



!6_ 



lose sight of many things that yoa now wish 
to see nearer the ground. 

James. 1 should not fear being run over by 
carriages, for I would straddle so, [he straddles,] 
and let them pass between my legs. 

Manlius. You would not get as many rides 
in them as you do now. 

James. And if Master Whipwell struck 
me, I could strike him back again with 
interest. 

Minlius. I have not heard you tell of any 
.good that you would do. 

James. Oh, 1 should do a deal of good, 
of course. I would protect you, you little 
monkey ! 

Ma til i us. You had better not promise much 
more, until you begin to grow. 

James. Poh ! You are not so much bigger 
than! Stand up, my little gentleman. [They 
stand back to back, and James stands tiptoe.] 

Manlius. [Feels, and at first wonders at the 
little difference ; then looks at James's feet, and 
sees the trick.] Ah, slyboots ! come, put down 
your heels j you don't grow six inches in a 
minute. But I should like to know whether, 
when you are a giant, you mean to have 
every thing else as small as it is now? 

James. No ; I'd have every thing large in 
proportion. 

Manlius. "Well done, James; you may as 
well stay as you are. 

James. I did not mean so, exactly. No, 
I wouhi have other things remain small. 

Manlius. You would have to live out of 
doors, then; for you could never squeeze into 
any house. I guess Jack Frost would be your 
most intimate acquaintance. 

James. Well, what other objection, Mr. 
Solomon ? 

Manlius. If you were overheated, you could 
not get under the shade of a pleasant tree, lor 
trees would be bushes to you. 

James. I should build me a house on 
purpose. 

Manlius. You could take such long steps, 
you would like to travel much, no doubt. 

James. Yes, I should go from one end of 
the world to the other. 

Manlius. You would have to carry your 
house with you, as the snail does. That would 
be mighty pleasant. But there is another 
important question. How would you be fed? 
You would eat an ox or two at every meal. 

James. Oh, I guess I should let the oxen 
grow large, likewise. 

Manlius. Our pasture would hardly give 
such an ox a breakfast. 

James. Well, I would have the pasture 
enlarged, too. 

Manlius. Then you would only need one 
thing more. 
James. What would that be ? 
Manlius. To have the whole world made 
larger. 

James. Well, I guess, on the whole, that 
man is best as he is. 

Manlius. Yes ; and it is hardly worth while 
to change the whole order of things, just to 
find what is in lather's basket. 

James. [Looking wishfully up at the basket, 
mnd rubbing his leg, as he limps off.] May be 



so ; but I should like to know what is in it, 
nevertheless. 

Manlius. You had better say it is full of 
sour grapes, as the fox did, when he found 
that his legs were shorter than his longings. 

(F. F. D.) 
767. VANITY PUNISHED. 

Michael, a Country Boy, Son of a Tenant oi 
Valentine's Father. 

Michael. Master Valentine, I have 
gathered you a pretty nosegay, which I hope 
you will accept. 

Valentine. Nosegay ! pshaw ! I want none 
of your nosegays, 

Michael. It is true, they are only wild 
flowers ; but I thought you would like to 
know their names. 

Valentine. I have no wish to learn the 
names of weeds. You may carry them where 
you found them. 

Michael. Well, now, if I had known that 
I should have saved myself the trouble of 
gathering them. I determined not to go home 
without carrying you something ; and, though 
it was rather late, I stopped and gathered 
them by moonlight, thinking they would please 
you. 

Valentine. You talk of the moon ; do you 
know how big it is ? 

Michael. Big as a small cheese. 

Valentine. Ignorant little clown! It is 
half as big as the world. Here, can you read 
this book ? 

Michael. Is it in English ? 

Valentine. Telemaque in English! Ha, 
ha, ha ! It is French, booby ! 

Michael. Let me look at it, if you please. 

Valentine. Don't touch it with your dirty 
hands ! Where did you buy those tanned 
leather gloves? 

Michael. Gloves ! it is my skin, Master 
Valentine. I have been working in the sun. 

Valentine. It is hard enough to be cut into 
shoe soles. 

Michael. It is not hard from idleness, 
Master Valentine. You know how to talk 
better than I ; but I could beat you at hard 
work ; and to be industrious, and treat every 
body well, is about all I know how to do. 
But it is late, and I must go. Good evening 
to you. [He goes mil.] 

Valentine. I am ashamed to ask him to 
show me the way home, though I am com- 
pletely lost in these woods. I shall have 
to stay here all night, and be eaten by 
wild beasts. Oh dear! Oh dear ! Michael! 
Michael! Michael! If he don't hear me, 
I am lost. Michael ! here, come back ! 

Michael. [Entering.] What is the matter, 
Master Valentine? Has any thing hurt 
you? 

Valentine. No ; I was thinking which way 
I must steer to get out of these woods. 

Michael. Don't your French help yoa ? 

Valentine. No; French has nothing to de 
with it. You know it has not. 

Michael. Well, there's your great moon; 
can't that help you? 

Valentine How can that tell me the way 
home ? Well, if you don't choose to tell me, 
you needn't. 



362 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



Michael. What will you give me to tell 
you, Master Valentine ? 

Valentine. I will give you all my play- 
things. „ 

Michael. Will you take my nosegay, and 
always keep it to remember the woods by? 

Valentine. Michael, I am sorry I ill-treated 
you, just now. 

Michael. I suppose, if I should point out 
the way with my ugly leather hands, you 
would not take it. 

Valentine. You need not twit me so, when 
I am sorry. 

Michael. Master Valentine, I am inclined 
to think my cheese moon is of more service to 
me than your monstrous half of the world that 
you tell about. What is the value cf your 
knowledge, if it is of no use to you ? Which 
way from home does this forest lie ? 

Valentine. West, of course. 

Michael. Well, there's the moon. Does 
that rise in the east, or west? 

Valentine. In the east. I see now what 
you mean. If the forest lies west of home, 
home lies east of the forest ; and towards the 
moon is towards home, is it not? 

Michael. So my cheese tells me. Go 
straight towards the moon, and you will strike 
the main road in half a mile; and then, as 
you know French, you can easily inquire the 
way. 

Valentine. You are too hard upon me, 
Michael; but I thank you, nevertheless. 

Michael. And you will take the nosegay, 
Master Valentine ? 

Val ntine. To be sure I will, and will keep 
it till I die, and tell how I came by it, if I am 
ridiculed ever so much for it. I have lost my 
way, to be sure, but I have found myself, 
and have got a clew to the true value of 
knowledge— Utility. (r. f. d.) 

76S. THE TORTOISE. 

Mr. Tolman and his Sons, George and William. 

Mr. Tolman, Boys, what are you doing 
with that tortoise ? 

George. We are putting a coal on his back, 
sir, to make him run out of his shell. 

Mr. Tolman. Do you think he can do so? 

William. Certainly, father; didn't you 
know it? This is the way they get off the 
shell, without breaking it, when they wish to 
make combs. 

Mr. Tolman. There must be some mistake. 
You may depend upon it, the animal grows to 
his shell. 

George. Oh, no, father; he can run oat 
of it whenever he pleases. 

Mr. Tolman. It seems he does not please 
\r> l^ave it, though you torture him. 

William. How torture him, father ? There 
is no feeling in his shell. 

Mr. Tolman. Then there is no use in 
putting a coal upon it. He will not mind 
what he does not feel. You had better coax 
him to go out. 

George. He won't be coaxel, father; and 

yet his shell is as loose on him as my clothes. 

Mr. Tolman. Well, George, lie across 

these two chairs a minute 1 wish to show 

you an experiment- 



George. Is it in animal magnetism, father? 
I should like to see an experiment dearly 
[He lies down] Tell me what I must do 
now. 

Mr. Tolman. Well, then, when I put this 
hot coal on your back, you must run out of 
your clothes. 

George. Why, father, you know I can't, 
unless I unbutton my jacket. 

Mr. Tolman. Did you unbutton the jacket 
of the poor tortoise? Hold still, now, till I 
put the coal on. 

George. Oh dear; Oh dear! You'll hurt 
me, father. 

Mr. Tolman. Oh, no — there is no feeling 
in your clothes. I only wish to do to you as 
you were doing to the tortoise. 

William. Father, are you serious? 

Mr. Tolman. I never was more so in 
my life. If your cruelty did not arise from 
ignorance, I should punish you for it- What 
did you expect to do with this little shell, after 
you had forced the poor animal to leave it ? 

William. We meant to make a comb 
of it 

Mr. Tolman. It is not the kind of shell 
of which combs are made. It is of no use at 
all. You should have ascertained this before 
you applied the torture. We may have a 
right to destroy animals for our beneiit, and 
perhaps to obtain our laxnries, but we have 
no right to hurt them in idle sport. 

George. What shall we do with the tortoise, 
then? 

Mr. Tolman. What did I do with you, 
when you objected to having the coal on your 
back? 

George. You let me go without finishing 
your experiment. 

Mr. 'Tolman. Well, I do not know that the 
golden rule of doing as we would be done by. 
is not as applicable to our treatment of animals 
as to that of our fellow-creatures. It certainly 
is always a safe rule, and I am glad I came in 
time to teach it to you. [w. v. D.) 

769. QUARTER DAT. 

Characters.— Miss Carlton. Mrs. Wondrous 
and Child. Mrs. Saveall and two Children. 
Mrs. Oldschool and Child. Mrs. Frivolous and 
Child, Mrs. Covenant and Child. RVis. Lovegood 
and Child. Mrs. Plainsay and Child. Mrs. 
Doublerefined and Child. Mrs. Lofty and Child. 
Mrs. Grumpy and Child. Mrs. Wilder and two 
Children. Mrs. Kindly and two Children. Mr*. 
Fairplay and three Children. Mrs. Goodheart 
and four Children. Mrs. Welcome and five Children. 
Mrs. Lovely and six Children. Mrs Bountifui 
and seven Children. 

[If the school be large enough, it is desirable to have 
as many children as are mentioned above. But, 
without difficulty, seven children, of different 
sizes, would be sufficient for all the parts. If 
there are not advanced pupils enough for all the 
lady parts, with a slight change of dress and an 
exchange of bonnets, a few young ladies may 
personate all the characters" or some of them 
may be omitted.] 

Miss Carlton. Well, this is my new 
quarter-day, and on to-day depends the 
question, whether my little school is to be 
abandoned for want of patronage, and my 
orphan sisters deprived of this only hope of 



AND DIALOGUES. 



36* 



sapport or whether my sincere endeavors 
are to be rewarded. I have advertised lor 
applications to be made this morning, and 
never did I feel more anxious to have a 
morning over. Hark! there is the door-bell. 
[Enter Mrs. Wondrous, leading- in a very 
small child.] 

Mrs. Wondrous. Do I address Miss Carlton? 

Miss Carlton. That is my name, madam. 

Mrs. Wondrous. Your school has been 
highly recommended to me by some of my 
friends, and I have concluded to place my 
daughter under your care, if we can agree 
upon the subject of her studies. Pray, what 
do you teach, Miss Carlton ? 

Miss Carlton. What is usually taught in 
genteel schools, madam. How old is your 
little girl? 

Mrs. Wondrous. She is'only five ; but then 
she is a child of remarkable capacity. 

Miss Carlton. 1 should not think she studied 
many branches at pi-esent, whatever she may 
do hereafter. 

Mrs. Wondrous. Indeed she is not so 
backward as jou suppose. She has studied 
botany, geometry, and astronomy; and her 
teacher was preparing to put her into algebra, 
when ill health obliged her to give up her 
Bchool. 

Miss Cailton. Have you ever examined 
her in these branches, madam? 

Mrs. Wondrous. Oh, yes! Fraxinella, my 
dear, tell the lady something of geometry and 
astronomy. What is astronomy, my dear? 
Ask her a question, Miss Carlton — any question 
you please. 

Miss Carlton. What planet do we inhabit, 
my dear? 

Frnxiuella. Hey ? 

Miss Carlton. What do you live on, my 
dear? 

Fraxinella. On meat, ma'am- I didn't 
Know that was what you meant. 

Mrs. Wondrous. No, my dear; the lady 
means, What do you stand on, my dear ? 
On what do you stand ? 

Fraxinella. 1 was standing on one foot 
then, mother. 

Mrs. Wondrous. Fraxinella, dear, you have 
forgotten your astronomy, the three days you 
have staid at home. But do now say a line 
or two of your last lesson to the lady — now do, 
dear — that's an angel ! 

Fraxinella. "The equinoctial line is the 
plane of the equator extended indefinitely, 
until it approximates to the calyx or fiower- 
oup supports the corolla for the two sides 
of a light-angled triangle are equal to the 
hippopotamus !" 

Airs. Wondrous. There, Miss Carlton ! I 
told you she had it in her, only you did not 
'understand the best method of drawing it out. 
I knew she would astonish you. 

Miss Carlton. She does, indeed, madam. 
You speak of the plane of the equator, my 
dear. May I ask what is the meaning of the 
word plane ? 

Fraxinella. Ugly, ma'am. I should think 
every body knew that ! 

Miss Carlton. How many are three times 
three, my dear? 



Fraxinella. Thrt e times three ? 

Miss Carlton. Yes, how many are they ? 

Fraxinella. I don't know. Mrs. Flare 
never taught me that. She says every body 
knows how to count. 

Miss Carlton. She taught you to read and 
spell, I suppose. 

Mrs. Wondrous. No, I forbade that. I 
wished to have the mind developed at once, 
without having the intellect frittered away in 
attention to such unimportant elements. Mrs. 
Flare was a nonesuch — a real peek-no-farther. 
I am afraid her loss will never be made up to 
poor Fraxinella. 

Miss Carlton. I cannot agree to receive 
your daughter, madam, if I am to pursue the 
course you seem to approve Until the mind 
is able to comprehend, I think the child should 
be employed upon such things as require little 
or no intellectual effort. 

Mrs. Wondrous. I see your school will not 
do for me. I was afraid that you only taught 
the lower branches. Come, Fraxy, dear, let 
«s go. Good morning, Miss Carlton. 

Miss Carlton. Good morning, madam. 
[The lady goes out.\ Oh dear! I suppose 
1 am a fool, not to help the good lady to cheat 
herself, and ruin her child; but I cannot 
forfeit all my self-respect without a struggle. 

[Enter Mrs. Saveall and two daughters ] 

Mrs. Saveall. Good morning. Miss Carlton, 
I suppose. 

Miss Carlton. Good morning, madam. 

Mrs. Saveall. I have heard a good account 
of your school, Miss Carlton; and, if we can 
agree upon the terms, 1 may send you my tw« 
girls. Pray, what are your terms ? 

Miss Carlton. How old are your daughters, 
madam ? 

Mrs. Saveall. Sarah, dear, how old are you? 

Sarah. Nine, mother. 

Mrs. Saveall. And you, Jane ? 

Jane. Seven, mother. 

Miss Carlton. The price will be eight and 
ten dollars a quarter. 

Mrs. Saveall. Is that your lowest price? 

Miss Carlton. I have but one price, madam. 

Mrs. Saveall. What ! do you make no 
allowance for my sending two 1 

Miss Carlton. No, madam, I have never 
made any. 

Mrs. Saveall. That will never answer. 
My husband, Mr. Saveall, told me you ought 
to make a discount of twenty per cent. 

Miss Carlton. It is as hard to teach two 
sisters as two strangers, madam. 

Mrs. Saveall. Yes, but you have but one 
biH to collect, and a parent who sends two 
pupils patronizes your school more than she 
who sends only one 

Miss Carlton. I hope to be faithful to every 
pupil, madam ; and sometimes I think the 
obligation is not all on the part of the teacher. 

Mrs. Saveall. This will never do, miss. 
Unless you conduct your school on more liberal 
principles, you will never get any scholars. 
I can get my children taught for much less 
than you ask. Miss Slighter, their late teacher, 
only charged them six dollars each. 

Miss Carlton Whv did you not keep yow 
children at her school ? 



164 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



Mrs. Sareatl. WhyT Miss Slighter is a very 
good sort of woman, but Mr. Saveall thought 
the children did not learn any thing under her 
care, and we thought we would try a change. 
But your terms are altogether too extravagant; 
1 must find a cheaper school. 

Miss Carlton If I were not interested, 
I might remark, that the cheapest articles are 
not apt to be the best, madam ; but I cannot 
reconcile it to my sense of right, to have two 
prices for the same thing. 

Mrs. Saveall. Very well, miss. I shall, no 
doubt, find some person less scrupulous, and 
I bid you a g<,od morning. Come, girls, this 
school will never do for you. Every thing is 
too narrow and contracted to suit your father's 
liberal views. [She goes out.] 

Miss Carlton. Oh dear! Another loss, and 
two at once ! Well, I am almost discouraged. 
But here comes another patron. 

[Enter Mrs. Oldschool and daughter.'] 

Mrs. Oldschool. Have I the pleasure to 
address Miss Carlton ? 

Miss Carl/on. My name is Carlton, madam. 
Will you take a seat? 

Mrs. Oldschool. No, no, I thank you. I wish 
to get a school for my only daughter, and 
I have heard yours highly recommended. But 
they tell me, that, though your pupils are well 
instructed, you employ some pupils to teach 
others. Is it so ? 

Miss Carlton. It is, madam. I think every 
child should be able to communicate to others 
what she learns herself 

Mrs. Oldschool. Yes, but I do not wish to 
pay a teacher for teaching my children, and 
have them taught by other children. 

Mess Cadlon. It would be unfair to expect 
you lo do so, madam. But you err in supposing 
that I perform any the less labor, because 
I employ my pupils as assistants. My whole 
time is devoted to my pupils ; and, as much 
of the instruction can be given by well-informed 
pupils under my direction, I can give my 
personal attention where it is most needed. 

Mrs. Oldschool. This all sounds very well ; 
but, after all, children cannot teach children 
any thing. 

Misa Carlton. Do you mean, madam, that 
one child cannot teach another that two and 
two make four — that t-r-u-th spells truth— 
that Boston is joined to Roxbury — or that the 
name of a thing is a noun ? 

Mrs. Oldschool. Perhaps it can; but, then, 
children have no judgment, and cannot govern 
children. I have seen enough of bad discipline; 
my children have been nearly ruined by shifting 
schools. 



Miss Carlton. Have they over been taught 
by monitors ? 

Mrs. Oldschool. No, never. 

Miss Carlton. Surely, you do not bring this 
as an objection against monitorial schools ! 

Mrs. Oldschool. Why no but then, 

in the nature of things, one child cannot be fit 
to teach another; and if you do not give up 
this notion, J must put my child elsewhere. 

Miss Carlton. 1 cannot give it ( up until 
convinced that it is erroneous ; nor could you 
wish me to do so, I think. 

Mrs. Oldschool. Well, you may do as you 



please, but I am too old-fashioned to adopt 
any such new-fangled notions. So, good 
morning. Come, Sophia, dear, bid the lady 
good morning. 

Miss Cadlon. Good morning, miss. [ They 
go out ] , 

[Enter Mrs. Frivolous and daughter.] 
Mrs. Frivolous. Good morning. Miss Carl- 
ton, I suppose. I have a little daughter that 
I wish to place in your school. I understand 
you teach all the light accomplishments. Who 
is your teacher of dancing? I have sent my 
daughter to every teacher that has opened a 
school in Boston ; for 1 think that, if music and 
dancing are attended to, every thing else 
follows. Lucy, my dear, turn out your toes. 
As I was saying, we give a ball once or twice 
every winter, aud Mr. Frivolous carries the 
children to every concert and ball that is 
respectable. 

Miss Carlton. Does not this interrupt their 
other studies? 

Mrs. Frivolous. Oh, yes but then ease 
and grace must be acquired in youth, or never, 
Lucy, dear, take your fingers out of your 

mouth ! As I was saying What was I 

saying ? What icas I saying ? Strange that 
1 should be so forgetiul ! But not longer ago 
than yesterday, 1 was telling Mr. Frivolous 
about something, and right in the midst of the 
story, I forgot what I was going to say ; and 
do what I could, I had to give it up. Lucy t 
my dear, you forget to turn out your toes ! 

Miss Carlton. May I ask, madam, if you 
child has never studied any thing but music 
and dancing? 

Mrs. Frivolous. Oh, yes ; she has studied 
every thing. But then the poor girl sits up so 
late every night, she cannot go to school till it 
is nearly over; and she jjractises so much, that 
she has nearly ruined her health, and has no 
time to get her lessons. Lucy, dear, don'i 
stoop so. She has an ugly stoop in the 
shoulders ; but Doctor Smooth says she will 
outgrow it one of these days. Now, Lucy, my 
darling, can't you just dance that hornpipe you 
learned last? 

Lucy. Mother, I don't know how, I have 
forgotten the steps. 

Mrs. Frivolous. My dear, you can't have 
forgotten them so soon, after spending two 
quarters in learning nothing else. 

Miss Carlton. Don't urge the young lady. 
I shall be happy, madam, to receive your 
daughter, if you think fit to place her under 
my care; bui I can only promise her as much 
instruction in music and dancing as can be 
given without interruption to her more impor- 
tant studies. 

Mrs. Frivolous, No — she must study after 
she has finished her education. We have 
but one daughter, and we mean to spare 
no expense in her education. You are too 
old-fashioned — excuse me — much too old- 
fashioned, for my notion; and Lucy, dear, 
make one of your best courtesies to the lady. 
[The child does so.] Good morning, miss. 

Miss Carlton. Well, what can come next? 
I hardly know whether to laugh or cry at the 
ill success of my attempt to enlarge my school 
But here is ano'ther applicaiA. 



AND DIALOGUES. 



365 



f Enter Mrs. Covenant and daughter.] 

Mrs. Covenant. Miss Carlton, I presume. 
[Miss Carlton courtrsies.] 

Mrs. Covenant. I am anxious to give my 
daughter a religious education, and hearing 
your school well recommended for every tiling 
else, I am induced to ask what religious 
instruction is given in your school. Do you 
teach your pupils how to pray? 

Miss Carlton. No. madam, I leave them to 
folio a the teaching of Jesus. He, you know, 
has told us how we ought to pray. 

Mrs. Covenant. But don't you have public 
prayers in the school? 

Miss Carlton. No, madam. I advise the 
children to pray in secret ; for I think few 
other prayers are sincere and from the heart. 

Mrs. Covenant. Do you give no Bible 
lessons ? 

Miss Carlton. We read the Scriptures, 
madam. 

Mrs. Covenant. Yes, but do they commit 
verses to memory, so that they can quote 
Scripture readily ? 

Miss Carlton. No, madam. Those who 
have the most Scripture in their mouths, do 
not necessarily have the most piety in their 
hearts. I explain to them the leading prin- 
ciples of our religion upon all proper occasions, 
and I am careful to set them a good example. 

Mrs. Covenant. Then you have no set 
religious exercises ? Your pupils must be 
little better than heathen. 

Miss Carl/on. Most of them go to Sunday 
schools, madam; ail go to Church; and all 
have parents, who, no doubt, give them 
religious instruction at home ; and I do all 
that 1 can here to aid in the all-important 
work. 

Mrs. Covenant. This will not do, Miss 
Carlton The religious part of education must 
supercede every thing else. 

Child. Mother, does that lady put her 
scholars down cellar, and slap 'em when they 
don't say " Now I lay me " right, as you 
did 

Mrs Covenant. Hush! hush! 

Child. Why, mother! you know you did, 
and how you scolded me, when I told you I 
didn't like to go to meeting without you. 
You know, mother, you shook me, and made 
me cry- 

Mrs. Covenant. Hush! hold your tongue, 
Susan! If / can't make you pious, it does 
not follow that 1 should not require it of one 
who professes to make teaching her business. 
1 wish you good morning. Miss Carlton. 
A school without set religious exercises must 
be very imperfect. It will never do for ray 
children. [Exit.] 

[Enter Mrs. Lovegood and daughter.] 

Mrs. Lovegood. Miss Carlton, I suppose. 

Mi>s Carlton. Yes, madam. Will you take 
that chair? 

Mrs. Lovegood. No. I am obliged to you. 
I called. Miss Carlton, to make some inquiries 
about your school. I understand that you use 
rewards, and encourage emulation in your 
school. 

Miss Carlton. I do, madam. I can not 
get on without some encouragement myself, 



and I know not how I can reasonably expect 
my pupils to do so. 

Mrs. Lovegood. Excuse me, my dear, if I 
say that you are behind the age. No teacher 
can expect the patronageof intelligent parents, 
if she cannot lure children to knowledge and 
virtue for knowledge and virtue's sake. 
I think the spirit of emulation the very spirit 
of mischief, and I can never allow my child 
to be placed where she is exposed to suck 
danger. My children obey me because they 
love me ; and they yield a ready and cheerful 
obedience, because they know that 1 only 
require what is right, evidently right, and 
best for them. Maria, my dear, don't go so 
near that window — you may break it. Don't 
strike the glass, my dear — you will surely 
break it. Come here, my dear. 

Maria. 1 won t ! 

Mrs. Lovegood. Why, Maria! my dear! 
You don't say you won't to your mother ? 

Maria. Yes, I do, though. 

Mrs. Lovegood. My daughter, I am surprise* 
to hear sush unbecoming remarks from you, 
when you know I love you so. 

Maria. Who cares for your love? [She 
breaks the glass, and Mrs. Lovegood seizes and 
shakes her J 

Mrs. Lovegood. Why, you little, disobedient 
hussy! what do you mean ? [Slapping her.] 
There! take that! and that! and that! — and 
now see whether you will disobey me again. 

Miss Carlton. Is this drawing by the cords 
of love ? 

Mrs. Lovegood. I am aware that you have 
the advantage of me ; but I will shut her ur 
for a month but what 1 will make her obey 
me. There ! go home ! Good morning, Miss 
Carlton. I do not often get into such *. 
passion. Good morning. 

[Enter Mrs. Plainsay and child] 

Mrs. Plainsay. Miss Carlton? 

Miss Carlton. That is my name, madam. 

Mrs. Plainsay. I have a dear child, that I 
am anxious to place under an affectionate 
teacher; and I have heard so much of your 
skill, that I am induced to ask what are the 
general principles upon which you conduct 
your school. 

Miss Carlton. I endeavor to make my 
pupils understand what they learn, and I 
endeavor to teach them only what will be 
useful to them. 

Mrs. Plainsay. Yes, but how is your 
government? is it parental? 

Miss Carlton. I endeavor to exercise such 
an authority as a judicious parent would 
approve. 

Mrs. Plainsay. A judicious parent ! Yes, 
I understand the insinuation. 1 presume yoa 
are unmarried, miss. 

Miss Carlton. 1 am obliged to plead guilty, 
madam. 

Mrs. Plainsay. T thought so. I have 
always maintained, that none but a parent 
can undei stand the feelings of a parent, and 
be prepared to treat children as they ought to 
be treated. Pray, how old are vou, miss ? 

Miss Carlton. [Smiling.] About twenty- 
eight, madam. 

Mrs Plainsay. You have not a moment to 



366 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



lose, then It is high time that you were 
beginning to think upon a certain subject. 

Miss Carlton. 1 had almost come to the 
conclusion, that it was high time to leave off 
thinking of it ; for, you know, madam, it is in 
vain fur me to think of it alone. 

Mrs. Plainsay. Then you had better give 
op teaching. You may rely upon it, that you 
will never be good for any thing while you 
remain single. You can never enter into the 
feelings of children, and exercise a parent's 
forbearance towards their faults. My children 
are so used to my indulgent care, that they 
could never submit to any harsher authority. 
This little dear 

Child. I wish, mother, you would not always 
dear me so before every body; for it makes 
them think I am a little baby. You called me 
a little devil, this morning, when 1 broke the 
glass vase, though you know I did not mean 
to do it. 

Mrs. Plain say. Hold your tongue, Mary ! 
How can you tell, before a stranger, what, 
in a moment of surprise, I may have said to 
you ! 

Child. Why, mother, it is not the first time 
you have called me so ; and I have not 
forgotten how you beat me for it. I don't 
believe this lady, or any other, would punish 
a little girl so, when she was sorry, and did 
uot mean to do wror.g. 

Miss Carl'on. My dear, you must be in an 
error Your mother knows best how to feel 
for her children. 

Mrs. Plainsay. I may not be all that a 
mother should be, Miss Carlton; but this does 
not weaken my position, that none but parents 
are qualified to manage children. It is evident 
that we shall never agree. Good morning, 
miss. [ She takes her child's hand, and tioitches 
her along, saying to her,} Come along! you 
6aucy little minx ! I never begin a sentimental 
flourish, but what you contrive to upset my 
whole theory by your babbling. 

Child. Well, mother, I thought you said 
you always did right ; and I could not see any 
harm in telling of it, if it was right. 

Mrs. Plainsay. Hush, child ! Let me never 
hear you speak in my presence again. I'll pay 
you for exposing me. Come along ! [Exit.] 

Miss Carlton. Well, I must get married,, 
too, whether or no! [Sighing?] I hope I 
shall be resigned, should the time come. But 
who is this? 

[Enter Mrs. Doublerejined and. daughter.] 

Mrs. Doublerejined. Good morning. Miss 
Carlton, I suppose. What an exquisitely 
beauchiful morning it is ! With your per- 
mission, I will recline a moment. I have 
been walking more than an eighth of a mile 
— an utter impracticability, if I were not 
determined to get rid of the importunity of 
Mr. Doublerefined, who thinks your school so 
superlatively excellent, that our child must 
participate in its advantages. 

Miss Carlton. I am happy to learn that he 
approves of my endeavors. 

Mrs, Doublerejined. 1 see you have a stove 
in the room. 

Miss Carlton. Yes, mndam. We could not 
warm so large a room with a grate. 



Mrs. Doublerejined. A stove would present 
an inshuperable objection. It so increases tho 
caloric, and diminishes the hydrogenic propor- 
tions of the circumambient atmosphere, that I 
should be inconsiderate to risk my offspring's 
health. I consider a stove an kcontrovertible 
disqualification. 

Mis* Carlton. I have heard no complaint 
of its injurious effects upon any pupil. 

Mrs. Doublerejined. You hare no nerves, 
my dear. I would not inhabit Paradise, it it 
was heated by a stove. You have no carpet, 
I see, on your floor. 

Miss Carlton. No, madam. I think a carpet 
in a work-shop would be out of place. 

Mrs. Doublerejined. You are under a serious 
misapprehension, my dear. Perfect neatness 
is not incompatible with any employment 
intrinsically accommodated to our sex. A 
carpet prevents the introgression of vulgar 
footsteps. I carpetVvery thing. 

Daughter. Ma, I wish you'd carpet my 
chamber ; my feet get so cold on the bare 
floor. 

Mrs. Doublerejined. My dear, when your 
elders are engaged in conversation, you should 
not interrupt them. Miss .Carlton, you are 
aware, no doubt, that where ideology, as the 
phrenologists call that sublime aspiration of 
the mind which stretches after transcen- 
dental beauty — you are aware, that, when 
this ethereal imagination characterizes the 
individual, the mortal approximates to the 
immortal, and happiness is perennial. 

Miss Carlton. I should think such delicacy 
of temperament would be an inlet to pain 
rather than pleasure. I have hitherto taken 
the world as my reason, and not as my 
imagination, paints it. 

Mrs. Doublerejined. You are altogether too 
unimaginative, my dear. I should be happy 
to patronize your school, but, really, a stove 
will be an inshuperable objection. Good 
morning, my dear. My head already begins 
to swim. 

Miss Carlton. There has been no fire in 
the stove to-day, madam ; but you probably 
feel the effects of the fire that is to be made 
in it one of these days. [Mrs. Doublerejined 
goes out.] Well, 1 must be patient, a though 
it seems as if I was tried a little above what 
I am able to bear. Here comes another 
patron. 

[Enter Mrs. Lofty and daughter.} 

Mrs. Lofty. Do I address Miss Carlton? 

Miss Carlton. [Courtesies.] 

Mrs. Lofty. T have heard of your school, 
miss, and am inclined to send you one or two 
of my children. 

Miss Carlton. I shall be happy to receivo 
them, madam. 

Mrs. Lofty. What number of pupils do you 
intend to receive ? 

Miss Carlton. Forty, madam. 

Mrs. Lofty. Too many ! too many by half! 
You can never get on with so many. I could 
never venture a child of mine in such a mob. 

Miss Carlton. I hope there will be no 
reason to complain of their number ; madam, 
or their conduct. 

Mrs. Lofty. Who are they ? Whc send 



AND DIALOGUES. 



36 



children to your school ? Do any come from 
Topknot Street? Have you any respectable 
people among your patrons ? 

Miss Carlton. I have none other, madam. 

Mrs. Lofty. Does Mrs. Inflate send to 
you 1 

Miss Carlton. No, madam. 

Mis. Lofty. Does Mrs. Puffton, Mrs. Up- 
Btart. Mrs.Eineton? 

Miss Carlton. No, madam, none of them. 

Mrs. Lofty. Second rate, then [tossing her 
head,} 1 suspect. My dear, 1 will make you 
a proposition. If you will limit your number 
to twenty, and charge three times what you 
do, so as to make your scholars select, I will 
try jour school one quarter. Nothing but an 
exclusive school can expect to have respectable 
scholars. 

Miss Carlton. I anv satisfied with my 
pupils, madam, and not at all disposed to part 
with one of them — not even to have their 
places filled with what you call exclusively 
respectable pupils. Madam, you may insult 
me, but I cannot bear to hear you insult those 
who have protected and encouraged me. I 
will neither give up my present pupils, nor 
take your children, should you be disposed to 
send them. 1 am the daughter of a mechanic, 
mail am. and not ashamed of my origin. 

Daughter. Mother, was her father an 
oyster-man. as grandfather was? 

Mrs. Lofty. Hold your tongue, child ! 

Daughter. Why, mother, grandfather told 
me he used to cry, " Oys. buy oys ? " about 
the streets, before you were married, and then 
you would'nt let him. 

Mrs. Lofty. Hold your tongue ! Your grand- 
father was a fool! 

Daughter. He told me he was, mother, to 
give up selling oysters. 

Mrs. Lofty. Come along. I will go and 
inquire after Mrs. Suitall's school, which I am 
told is the only respectable one in the city. 
[ To her daughter.'] Did not T tell you never 
to own that you had a grandfather? 

[She goes out, with a toss of her head.] 

Miss Carlton. I fear I have been rude ; 
but when I see such an assumption of supe- 
riority, I cannot forget that I am a human 
being, equal to her who would trample on me. 
Uh, dear! I am quite tired. 

[Enter Mrs. Grumpy and daughter.] 

Mrs. Grumpy. Are you Miss Carlton, th,e 
school ma'am ? 

Miss Carlton. My name is Carlton, madam. 

Mrs. Grumpy. I've heerd a great deal about 
your school, and I've determined to send you 
one of ray gals, if you can only satisfy me on 
one pint. They tell me you have some new- 
fangled notions on the subject of grammar ; 
and I never will have nothing to do with no 
one that does not know Murray's Grammar. 
I larnt that myself, and I never had no trouble 
in getting along, and I want my children to 
have the same advantages. 

Miss Carlton. My pupils are taught Mur- 
ray's Grammar, madam, as thoroughly as that 
6ystem is taught elsewhere , but we do not 
stop at that system — we endeavor to go 
farther, and look deeper. 

Mrs. Grumpy. That's deep enough. I've 



no idee that any good comes of trying to be too 
grammatical. In my day, we was ail taught 
alike, and them new-fangled notions of yourn 
wasn't thought on. Murray's Grammar is 
enough for any gal. Hepsy, daughter, do 
you want to lam that air grammar the lady 
tells on '( 

Hepsy. I don't want to study no grammar, 
mother. 

Mrs. Grumpy. Oh, my dear, you must 
study some grammar, or how will you be able 
to pass through the world ? for the only object 
of grammar is passing. 

Miss Carlton. Madam, your child will not 
be required to study any better grammar than 
Murray's, if you prefer his alone. 

Hepsy. Mother, I don't want to study no 
grammar. I canvass well enough without. 

Mrs. Grumpy. Well, dear, you shan't, 
then. I'll lam you myself, for I have ofteu 
heerd that there is no need of any one's 
laming grammar, when they never hear no 
bad language used at home. Good morning, 
Miss Carlton. Hepsy prefers to be under my 
care ; and I never use no violence when a 
child has any choice. Good morning. Come, 
Hepsy, dear, come. [Exit.] 

[Enter Mrs. Wilder and tivo daughters, with 
hoops.] 

Mrs. Wilder. Are you Miss Carlton ? 

Miss Carlton. I am, madam. Will you 
take a seat? 

Mrs. Wilder. I will, for I have just had a 
race after Emma, who was driving her hoop 
around a carriage. They are full of spirits, 
my girls, full of innocent fun, I understand you 
let your pupils play, Miss Carlton. 

Miss Carlton. I do, madam, but n#tt in 
study hours. 
[Mrs. Wilder goes to sit down, and one of her 

children removes the chair. Miss Carlton 

saves her from falling.] 

Mrs. 1 Vilder. My dear, you are naughty to 
do so. They are full of spirits, Miss Carlton, 
as I was before them. I cannot bear to 
repress the generous enthusiasm of youth, 
though it may sometimes overstep the bounds 
of propriety. 

Miss Carlton. Is it not better to check it 
when it first appears? I like play, as much 
as I dislike and punish mischief. Respect to 
parents and teachers lies at the foundation of 
the youthful character. 

Mrs. Wilder. Ah, that is too sentimental 
for me. Human nature is human nature, and . 
it will act itself out, and must not be restrained 
because it perpetrates a little innocent mis- 
chief. 
[While the mother is talking, the daughter 

twists up apiece of paper, and puts it for a 
foolscap on her mother's bonnet.] 

Miss Carlton. [ Throws away the cap. and 
says,] I could not overlook any insult offered 
by a child to an indulgent parent. If you 
expect me to do so, madam, I must deciiue 
receiving your children. 
[One of the children picks up the cap, and pins 

it to Miss Carlton's dress.] 

Mrs. Wilder. Come. Emma and H.itty, 
dears, come. I cannot place you in the 
hands of an old maid, who cannot bear a little 



36S 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



Innocent play. Good morning, Miss Carlton. 
I hope you will have some children of your 
own, one of these days ; and then we shall 
see how you will manage them. [As s/ic 
goes out, the girls drive their hoops against 
her.} 

Miss Carlton. Well, now I have done! 
I will die before I will undergo such torture 
any longer. 

[She moves to go out, as Mrs. Kindly enters, 
with two children.] 

Mrs. Kindly. My dear, have you any room 
for two of my children ? Mrs. Prudent recom- 
mends you so highly, that I shall be pleased 
lo have you take these two. Do with them 
as you would with your own, and I shall be 
satisfied. 

Miss Carlton. I feel grateful for the confi- 
dence you repose in me, madam, and shall be 
unxious to deserve it. 

[Enter Mrs. Fairplay with three children.'] 

Mrs. Fairplay. I have come, Miss Carlton, 
to place three of my children under your care, 
if you can oblige me by receiving them. 

Miss Carlton. I shall be happy to receive 
them, madam. 

Mrs. Fairplay. You will 6ee what they 
know, and, of course, will put them to what- 
ever study you think most useful to them. 

Miss Carlton. I thank you, madam, for 
your kindness. 

[Enter Mrs. Goodheart and four children.] 

Mrs. Goodheart. Is this Miss Carlton? 
Miss Carlton courtesies.] My dear, 1 have a 
large family of children, and wish to place four 
of them where they will be well instructed 
and kindly treated. I see you are engaged, 
and if you say you can take them, I will leave 
them with you 

[Enter Mrs. Welcome and Jive children.] 

Mrs. Welcome. There — come all in ! Don't 
be alarmed, Miss Carlton. They are all good 
girls, and wish to come to your school. They 
are acquainted with some of your scholars, 
I believe ; and if you have room for them, they 
ehall all come ; for their late teacher has been 
married and has relinquished her school. 

Miss Carlton. I can take them, madam, 
and the more cheerfully, because the conduct 
of my other pupils has recommended my school 
to you. 

Mrs. Welcome. Well, there they are. Now, 

f^irls, don't let it be your fault if you don't 
earn. 

[Enter Mrs. Lovely and six children.] 
Mrs. Lovely. Excuse me. Miss Carlton — 
you seem to be engaged. 

Miss Carlton. Not so that I cannot attend 
to you, madam. These ladies have just 
honored me by placing their daughters under 
my care. 

Mrs. Lovely. I came for the same purpose. 
My six children are anxious to enter your 
pchool, and if you can accommodate such a 
host, it will gratify them not to be separated, 
and I shall feel that they are safe. 

Miss Carlton. I will do my best to accommo- 
date them, and to justify your trust in me, 
madam 
[Enicr Mrs. Bountiful with seven children.] 
Mrs. Bountiful. I must apologize, Miss 



Carlton, for this intrusion; but I was coming 
to ask if you will receive my seven daughters, 
and they all insisted upen coming with me. 
1 beg you to excuse their curiosity. They 
were afraid you might not be able to take so 
many, and no one was willing to be the 
rejected one. You will take them all, I hope. 

Miss Carlton. I certainly will endeavor to, 
madam. If you, ladies, will be good enough 
to walk into the hall, 1 will make what further 
arrangements may be necessary. 

[The ladies and children go out.] 

Miss Carlton. Well, it seems that patient 
waiters are not likely to be losers iu the school 
line, whatever they may be in the line matri- 
monial. [She follows them into tlie hall.} 

(F. F. D.) 
77©. DIALOGUE.— ANCIENT AND MODERN VIRTCB. 
LINDOR AND FL0RIME1. 

Lindor. In what manner, friend Fiorimel 
have you lately passed your time ? 

Fiorimel. The study of history, and reflec- 
tion on the manners of the Ancients and 
Moderns, have last employed my leisure 
moments; and 1 have reaped" satisfaction and 
delight from a comparison of the virtues, which 
actuated each, in their respective ages. 

L. You have, then, taken a method to cull 
profit, as well as pleasure, from your labors. 
To run cursorily over the mere events, which 
fill the page of history, to color the mind with 
only a faiut tint of their beauties, is an 
injudicious mode of reaping a harvest of the 
various fruits which enrich the historical 
orchard, and may be gathered by the man of 
perseverance and application. Reflection, 
after reading, makes the mind a granary, from 
which memory may be always served with a 
rich repast. 

F. Your observations are just; and, for the 
benefit of readers in general, I could wish 
they were more strictly attended to. To 
determine where lies the superiority in arts 
and sciences, in heroism and the virtues of 
private life, among the ancients and moderns, 
requires mental capacity and literary research ; 
and, to hold, with a steady and impartial 
hand, the beam, from whence depend the 
scales which contain their several merits, 
'.'.emand a mind, unwarped or uninfluenced by 
the prejudices of education or habit The 
manner in which I have considered of their 
several virtues, prompts me to give the 
ascendency to the ancients. Their actions 
appear to arise more from a view of the 
pleasure they expected to receive, from the. 
performance of a great, or good deed, than 
among the moderns; and to be less biased by 
the opinion of the world, than impelled by an 
innate sentiment of rectitude or glory Their 
rough, unhewn virtues, always ailbrd me 
pleasure, and are purer than some in modern 
days, where a base motive is sometimes 
discovered, intruding itself, to mar the glory 
and brilliancy of an action, in other respects, 
divine. 

L. There, my friend, I must beg leave to 
differ from you ;* for, in my opinion, the latter 
are moved less by a sense of the inspection 
of others, than the former. Their gods being 



AND DIALOGUES. 



369 



considered, in the scale of being, but as a few- 
grades higher than our heroes, this belief 
must have infused itself into their minds 
that kind of promptness to action, which is 
inspired by the expectation of approving 
spectators, or the censure of a dis approbating 
world. 

F. Next to the impulsion we receive from 
the performance of what is good or great, 
merely from itself, is the incentive arising 
from the plaudits of those who observe our 
conduct. When Leonidas and his little band 
of heroes, entered the avenue to immortality, 
at the straits of Thermopylae, animated by a 
desire of commanding the admiration of the 
world, and of meriting the glory they aspired 
after, allowing it to be owing to this motive, 
are we not charmed at their magnanimity? 
"Where will you find an instance of heroism 
comparable to this, in modern times? Who, 
but an icy stoic, is not rapt in ecstacy, when 
he thinks on the sternness of Cato's virtue? 
When Caesar "had thinned the ranks of his 
senate," had made himself lord of Rome, and 
proffered friendship and honors to the hoary 
republican, as the price of his submission, 
who can withhold the approving plaudit, or 
but admire his resolution and fortitude ? 

" Who sees him act, but envies every deed ? 
Who hears him groan, that does not wisk to 
bleed?" 

L. The true criterion of the worth of actions, 
is the motive which produces them. Of these, 
we are not always in situations favorable for 
judging. But, if patriotism is a virtue, which 
may influence men in inferior stations, and 
can be tested by actions, where, my friend, in 
all ancient example, can we find a greater 
instance of that virtue, than those Frenchmen 
exhibited, who, in a naval engagement with 
the English, during our revolutionary war, 
were surds in the ship called the Vengeur? 
The event may be fresh in your mind ; in 
mine, it is indelible. To behold the whole 
crew, with one voice, calling on Heaven to 
bless the Republic, while the ocean was 
receiving their bodies, and their souls were 
treading the threshold of Elysium, was a 
sight, which must have attracted the attention 
and admiration of angels. I might mention 
one of our own country, whose talents, in the 
cabinet and field, are unrivalled, and who 
will remain, to distant ages, a monument 
of the perfection which is attainable by 
human nature. Your feelings will present 
to your mind, our first President, GENERAL 
WASHINGTON. We may likewise boast 
of other heroes and statesmen ; heroes, 
who have sealed their patriotism with their 
blood, and who have died in defence of our 
liberties. 

F. Scarce any age elapses, but is dis- 
tinguished by the genius of some great men ; 
but I think the manners of the present day 
are more unfavorable to the production of men 
of genius, heroes, &c, than in former times. 
Excessive thirst for property, is a weed, 
whose growth is encouraged more than 
formerly, and absorbs many of the finest 
feelings of humanity; and when age has 
BRONSON. 21 



just formed the man, the predominance of 
this affection blights his natural nobility in 
the bud. [Exeunt.) 

771. SUPERIOR VALUE OF SOLID ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 
DIALOGUE BETWEEN CICERO AND LORD CHESTERFIELD. 

Cicero. Mistake me not. I know how to 
value the sweet courtesies of life. Affability, 
attention, decorum of behaviour, if they have 
not been ranked by philosophers amone: the 
virtues, are certainly related to them, and 
have a powerful influence in promoting social 
happiness. I have recommended them as 
well as yourself. But I contend, and no 
sophistry shall prevail upon me to give up 
this point, that, to be truly amiable, they must 
proceed from goodness of heart. Assumed 
by the artful, to serve the purpose of private 
interest, they degenerate to contemptible 
grimace, and detestable hypoorisy. 

Chesterfield. Excuse me, my dear Cicero ; 
I cannot enter farther into the controversy at 
present. I have a hundred engagements at 
i least ; and see yonder my little elegant French 
comtesse. I promised her and myself the 
pleasure of a promenade. Pleasant walking 
enough in these Elysian groves. So much 
good company, too, that if it were not that the 
canaille are apt to be troublesome, I should 
not much regret the distance to the Tuilleries. 
But, adieu, my dear friend ; for I see 
Madame * * * is joining the party. Adieu ! 
adieu! 

Ci. Contemptible wretch ! 

Ch. Ah ! what do I hear ! Recollect that 
I am a man of honor, unused to the pity, or 
the insults of an upstart. But perhaps jour 
exclamation was not meant for me. If so, 
why 

Ci. T am as little inclined to insult as to 
flatter you. Your levity excited my indigna- 
tion ; but my compassion for the degeneracy 
of human nature, exhibited in your instance, 
absorbs my contempt. 

Ch 1 could be a little angry, but as good 
breeding forbids it, I will be a philosopher for 
once. Appropos, pray, how do you reconcile 
your — what shall I call it — your unsmooth 
address, to those rules of decorum, that 
gentleness of manners, of which you say you 
know and teach the propriety, as well as 
myself. 

Ci. To confess the truth, I would not 
advance the arts of embellishment to extreme 
refinement. Ornamental education, or an 
attention to the graces, has a Connection with 
effeminacy. In acquiring the gentleman, I 
would not lose the spirit of a man. There is 
a gracefulness in a manly character, a beauty 
in an open and ingenuous disposition, which 
all the professed teachers of the arts of pleasing 
know not bow to infuse. 

Ch. You and I lived in a state of manners 
as different as the periods at which we lived, 
were distant. You, Romans — pardon me, my 
dear sir — you Romans had a little of the Brute 
in you. Come, come, I must overlook it. 
You were obliged to court plebeians for their 
suffrages ; and if similis simili gaudet, it must 
be owned, that the greatest of you wera 
secure of their favor. Why, Beau Nash would 



370 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



have handed your Catos and your Brutuses 
out of the hall- room, if they had ihcwn their 
unmannerly heads in it; and rov krl Modith, 
animated with the conscious mc»-'t of the 
largest, or smallest buckles in tlie room, 
according to the temporary ton, would have 
laughed Pompey the Great out of countenance. 
Oh, Cicero, had you lived in a modern 
European court, you would have caught a 
degree of thai undescribablc grace, which is 
not only the ornament, but may be the substi- 
tute, of all those labored attainments which 
Ibols call solid merit. But it was noc your 
good fortune, and I make allowance. 

Ci. The vivacity you have acquired, in 
studying the writings and the manners of the 
degenerated Gauls, has led you to set too 
bigh a value on qualifications, which dazzle 
the lively perceptions with a momentary 
blaze, and to depreciate that kind of worth, 
which can neither be obtained nor understood, 
without serious attention, and sometimes 
painful efforts. But I will not contend with 
yon about the propriety, or impropriety, of the 
nutward modes, which delight a showy nation. 
1 will not spend arguments in proving, that 
gold is more valuable than tinsel, though it 
glitters less. But I must censure you with 
an asperity, too, which, perhaps, your graces 
may not approve, for recommending vice as 
graceful, in your memorable letters. 

Ch. That the great Cicero should know 
so little of the world, really surprises me. 
A little libertinism, my dear, that's all ; how 
can one be a gentleman without a little 
libertinism? 

Ci. I ever thought, that, to be a gentleman, 
it was requisite to be a moral man. And 
surely you, who might have enjoyed the 
benefit of a light to direct you, which 1 
wanted, were blameable in omitting religion 
and virtue in your system. 

Ch. What! superstitious too! You have 
not, then, conversed with your superior, the 
philosopher of Ferney. I thank heaven, I was 
born in the same age with that great luminary. 
Prejudice had else, perhaps, chained me in 
the thraldom of my great grandmother. These 
are enlightened days, and I find I have contri- 
buted something to the general illumination, 
by my posthumous letters. 

Ci. Boast not of them. Remember, you 
were a father. 

Ch. And did I not endeavor most effectually 
to serve my son, by pointing out the qualifica- 
tions necessary to a foreign ambassador, 
for which department I always designed 
him ? Few fathers have taken more pains to 
accomplish a son than myself. There was 
nothing I did not condescend to point out to 
him. 

Ci. True: yiur condescension was great 
indeed You were the pander of your son. 
You not only taught him the mean arts of 
dissimulation, the petty tricks which degrade 
nobility; but you corrupted his principles, 
fomented his passions, and even pointed out 
objects for their gratification. You might have 
left the task of teaching him fashionable 
vice, to a vicious world. Example, and the 
*orrupt affections of human nature, will ever 



be capable of accomplishing this unr.atunH 
purpose. But a parent, the guardian appointed 
by nature for an uninstructed offspring, intro- 
duced into a dangerous world, who himself 
takes upon him the office of seduction, is a 
monster indeed. 1 also had a non. I was 
tenderly solicitous for the right conduct of 
his education. I entrusted him, indeed, to 
Cratippus, at Athens ; but, like you, I could 
not help transmitting instructions, dictated by 
paternal love. Those instructions are contained 
in my book of Offices ; a book which has ever 
been cited, by the world, as a proof, to what 
a height the morality of the heathens was 
advanced, without the aid of revelation. I own 
I feel a conscious pride in it; not on account 
of the ability which it may display, but for the 
principles it teaches, and the good I flatter 
myself it has diffused. You did not, indeed, 
intend your instructions for the world ; but, 
as you gave them to a son you loved, it may 
be concluded that you thought them true 
wisdom, and withheld them, only because 
they were contrary to the professions of the 
unenlightened. They have been generally 
read, and tend to introduce the manners, vices, 
and frivolous habits, of the nation you admired 
— to your own manly nation, who, of all others, 
once approached most uearly to the noble 
simplicity of the Romans. 

Ch. Spare me, Cicero. I have never been 
accustomed to the rough conversation of 
an old Roman. I feel myself little in 
his company. I seem to shrink in his noble 
presence. I never felt my insignificance 
so forcibly as now. French courtiers and 
French philosophers have been my models; 
and amid the dissipation of pleasure, and the 
hurry of affected vivacity, I never considered 
the gracefulness of virtue, and the beauty of 
an open, sincere, and manly character. 

772. HOW 6CE0LAE8 ABE MADE.— WEESTBB. 

1. Costly apparatus, and splendid cabinets, 
have no magical power, to make scholars. 
In all circumstances, as a man i3, under God, 
the master of his own fortune, so is he the 
maker of his own mind. The Creator has so 
constituted the human intellect, that it can 
grow, only by its own action, and by its own 
action, it most certainly and necessarily 
grows. 

2. Every man must, therefore, in an impor- 
tant sense, educate himself. His books and 
teachers are but helps; the work is his. 
A man is not educated, until he has the ability 
to summon, in .case of emergency, all his 
mental powers, in vigorous exercise, to effect 
his proposed object. 

3. It is not the man who has see/i most, or 
who has read most, who can do this ; such an 
one is in danger of being borne down, like a 
beast of burden, by an overloaded mass of other 
men's thoughts Nor is it the man, that can 
boast merely of native vigor and capacity. 

4. The greatest of all the warrior?, that 
went to the siege of Troy, had not the pre- 
eminence, because nature had given him 
strength, and he carried the largest bow but, 
because .se/f-discipline had taught him how 
to bend his boic. 



AND DIALOGUES. 



371 



173. THE MERCHANT AND SCHOLAR.— G. R. RUSSELL. 

The scholar may feel some interest for the 
pursuit, which has contributed so largely to 
the facilities for his own calling; and, by 
extending its thousand hands to every region 
of the earth, has collected whatever is curious 
in science, or desirable in art. That the 
wisdom of ages may lie within his easy reach, 
the ship girdles the globe, and every cranny 
of its surface is ransacked, to supply his 
wants, and anticipate his wishes. Without 
wandering from his accustomed range, he 
may see, around him, evidences of what 
learning owes to a profession, which has 
liberally aided common education, founded 
schools of science, given names to univer- 
sities, ot" encouraged and sustained them 
from an honorably-earned prosperity ; worthy 
memorials, that it has not labored for outward 
luxury and present gratification only, but for 
the solid and enduring benefit of after times. 

In the halls of colleges hang the portraits 
of benefactors, who trafficked in the busy 
world, that they might endow professorships, 
fill the shelves of libraries, and place at the 
command of the student, whatever is recorded 
of the genius, intelligence, and industry of 
man. The calculations of the counting-room 
involve consequences beyond the accumulation 
of wealth. They are made, not merely for the 
actual necessities and artificial requirements 
of society, but they bring, from strange lands, 
new objects for investigation, and suggestions 
which give encouragement to thought. The 
man of books may pause, before he disdains 
companionship with the man of business, or 
arrogates to himself exclusive property in the 
field of literature. 

The young merchant, in these days, treads 
hard on the track of the professed scholar. 
Even in his early novitiate, he is not, now, 
content with the accomplishments which are 
deemed requisite in his initiation ; and which, 
though by no means ignoble, do not call for 
strong mental exertion, nor require, for per- 
fectibility, the length of time often devoted to 
these mysteries. He seeks more than can be 
found in his routine of duties. He is not 
satisfied with proficiency in sweeping store, 
making fires, and trimming lamps ; in being an 
errand boy, or a copying machine ; and his 
higher aspirations are aided by the oppor- 
tunities for acquiring knowledge, which hav^ 
within a few years, been most bountiful) / 
multiplied. There are lectures, libraries, ar d 
reading rooms, for those who crave, for th ir 
leisure hours, something more than m/ re 
amusement ; and they have given a charai er 
to pursuits, which were once considei ;d 
suited only to practical men, whose business 
was to do the drudgery of life, and leave ti ? 
monopoly of mind to more aesthetic nature 
Mercantile associations have been formec 
whose object is to encourage improvement, 
promote a taste for science and art, stimulate 
an attention to intellectual culture, and induce 
a devotion to qualifications which may trive 
a wider range for future usefulness. The 
cultivation, thus nurtured, is a labor of love. 
Knowledge is sought for itself alone ; no 
academic honors are expected : no diploma 



is to reward a periodical regard to prescribed 
tasks. But the limited time, allotted to study, 
gives an earnestness to application, and a 
necessity for that concentration and attention, 
which almost seems to constitute the difference 
between men, and is certainly indispensable 
to high success in any profession. 

There should be good fellowship between 
all occupations. They are in close connection; 
each can learn something of the other, and 
supply deficiencies by interchange of thought 
and friendly communion. The man of con- 
templation is neighbor to the man of action , 
abstraction leans against reality ; exact science 
is nearly related to practical circumstance 4 
speculation falls back on the experience of 
working days ; out of the dust and turmoil 
of noisy life spring beautiful things, over 
which sentiment may languish, and poetry 
become frantic. Differences of condition are 
accidents : men get into wrong places, but 
there is such affinity in the labor of all, that 
mistakes are rarely rectified, the world jogs 
oh, and things settle themselves. Over all 
conditions, from the nature too etherealized to 
think of dinner, down to the fragment of clay 
that thinks of nothing else, there rests the 
philosophy of facts, an agency which reconciled 
all discrepancies, and enlightens mankind by 
a sober development of human progress. 

774. WATER FOR ME.— JOHNSON. 

Oh ! -water for me — bright water for me ! 

And wine for the tremulous debauchee ! 

It cooleth the brow, it cooleth the brain, 

It maketh the faint one strong again ; 

It comes o'er the sense, like a breeze from th» sea, 

All freshness, like infant purity. 

Oh ! water, bright water, for me, for me— 

Give wine, give wine to the debauchee I 

Fill to the brim ! fill, fill to the brim ! 
Let the flowing crystal kiss the rim ! 
For my hand is steady, my eye is true, 
For I, like the flowers, drink naught but dew. 
Oh ! water, bright water's a mine of wealth, 
And the ores it yieldeth, are vigor and health. 
So water, pure water, for me, for me ! 
And wine for the tremulous debauchee ! 

Fill again to the brim— again to the brim ! 
For water strengtheuefch life and limb : 
To the days of the aged, it addeth length, 
To the might of the strong, it addeth strength 
It freshens the heart, it brightens the sight — 
'Tis like quaffing a goblet of morning light. 
So water, 1 will drink naught but thee, 
Thou parent of health and energ.y ! 

When o'er the hills, like a gladsome bride, 
Morning walks forth in her beauty's pride, 
And leading a band of laughing hours, 
Brushes the dew from the nodding flowers, 
Oh ! cheerily then my voice is heard, 
Mingling with that of tke soaring bird, 
Who flingeth abroad his matins loud, 
As he freshens his wing on the cold gray cloud 

tut when evening has quitted her sheltering yew, 
, rowsily flying, and weaving anew 
Her dusky meshes o'er land and sea. 
How gently. Oh sleep, fall thy poppies on me! 
Fo I drink water, pure, cold, and bright. 
An my dreams are of heaven, the life-long nigh* 
Tho < art silver and gold, thou art riband and scai 
Hur *h for bright water' hurrah. ' hurrah ! 



372 



T75. 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



-LTTTLETON. 



IMPORTANCE OP LITERATURE. 
CADMUS AND HERCULES. 

Reroutes. Do you pretend to sit as high 
on Olympus as Hercules? Did you kill the 
Nenwran lion, the Erymanthian boar, the 
Lernean serpent, and Styraphalian birds? 
Did you destroy tyrants and robbers ? You 
value yourself greatly on subduing one serpent: 
I did as much as that while I lay in my 
oradle. 

Cadmus. It is not on account of the serpent, 
feat I boast myself a greater benefactor to 
Greece than you. Actions should be valued 
by their utility, rather than their splendor. 
1 taught Greece the art of writing, to which 
/aws owe their precision and permanency. 
You subdued monsters ; I civilized men. It 
is from untamed passions, not from wild beasts, 
that the greatest evils arise to human society. 
Ky wisdom, by art, by the united strength of 
a civil community, men have been enabled to 
subdue the whole race of lions, bears, and 
serpents ; and, what is more, to bind, by 
laws and wholesome regulations, the ferocious 
violence and dangerous treachery of the human 
disposition. Had lions been destroyed only 
tn single combat, men had had but a bad time 
of it ; and what, but laws, could awe the men, 
who killed the lions ? The genuine glory, the 
proper distinction of the rational species, arises 
from the perfection of the mental powers. 
Courage is apt to be fiei-ce, and strength is 
often exerted in acts of oppression: but wisdom 
is the associate of justice. It assists her to 
form equal laws, to pursue right measures, to 
correct power, protect weakness, and to unite 
individuals in a common interest and general 
welfare. Heroes may kill tyrants, but it is 
wisdom and laws, that prevent tyranny and 
oppression. The operations of policy far 
surpass the labors of Hercules, preventing 
many evils, which valor and might cannot 
even redress. You heroes regard nothing but 
glory ; and scarcely consider whether the 
conquests, which raise your fame, are really 
beneficial to your countiy. Unhappy are the 
people who are governed by valor, not directed 
by prudence, and not mitigated by the gentle 
arts ! 

H. I do not expect to find an admirer of 
my strenuous life, in the man who taught his 
countrymen to sit still and read ; and to lose 
the hours of youth and action, in idle specula- 
tion and the sport of words. 

C. An ambition to have a place in the 
registers of fame, is the Eurystheus, which 
imposes heroic labors on mankind. The Muses 
incite to action, as well as entertai" the hours 
of repose ; and I think you should honor them, 
for preseniing to heroes so noble a recreation, 
as may prevent their taking up the distaff, 
when they lay down the club. 

//. Wits, as well as heroes, can take up 
the distaff. What think you of their thin-spun 
systems of philosophy, or lascivious poems, or 
Milesian fables? Nay, what is still worse, 
are there not panegyrics on tyrants, and books, 
that blaspheme the gods, and perplex the 
natural sense of right and wrong ? I believe 
if Eurystheus were to set me to work again, 
be would find me a worse task than any he 



imposed ; he would make me read ov'jr 9 
great library ; and I would serve it as I did 
the Hydra ; I would burn as I went on, that 
one chimera might not rise from another, to 
plague mankind. I should have valued myself 
more on clearing the library, than on cleansing 
the Augean stables. 

C. It is in those libraries only, that the 
memory of your labor exists. The herc-is o( 
Marathon, the patriots of Thermopylae, owe 
their fame to me. All the wise institutions 
of law-givers, and all the doctrines of sages, 
had perished in the ear, like a dream 
related, if letters had not preserved them. 
Oh, Hercules ! it is not for the man, who 
preferred Virtue to Pleasure, to be an enemy 
to the Muses. Let Sardanapalus and the 
silken sons of luxury, who have wasted life 
in inglorious ease, despise the records of 
action, which bear no honorable testimony to 
their lives: but true merit, heroic virtue, 
should respect the sacred source of lasting 
honor. 

H. Indeed, if writers employed themselves 
only in recording the acts of great men, much 
might be said in their favor. But why do 
they trouble people with their meditations f 
Can it be of any consequence to the world 
what an idle man has been thinking? 

C. Yes it may. The most important and 
extensive advantages mankind enjoy, are 
greatly owing to men who have never quitted 
their closets. To them, mankind are obliged 
for the facility and security of navigation. 
The invention of the compass has opened to 
them new worlds. The knowledge of the 
mechanical powers has enabled them to con- 
struct such wonderful machines, as perform, 
what the united labor of millions, by the 
severest drudgery, could not accomplish 
Agriculture, too, the most useful of arts, has 
received its share of improvement from the 
same source. Poetry, likewise, is of excellent 
use, to enable the memory to retain with 
more ease, and to imprint with more energy 
upon the heart, precepts and examples of 
virtue. From the little root of a few letters, 
science has spread its branches over all 
nature, and raised its head to the heavens^ 
Some philosophers have entered so far into 
the counsels of Divine Wisdom, as to explain 
much of the great operations of nature. The 
dimensions and distances of the planets, the 
causes of their revolutions, the path of comets, 
and the ebbing and flowing of tides, are 
understood and explained. Can any thing 
raise the glory of the human species more, 
than to see a little creature, inhabiting a 
small spot, amidst innumerable worlds, taking 
a survey of the universe, comprehending its 
arrangements, and entering into the scheme 
of that wonderful connection and correspon- 
dence of things so remote, and which it seem* 
a great exertion of Omnipotence to have 
established ? What a volume of wisdom, 
what a noble theology, do these discoveries 
open to us ? While some superior geniuses 
have soared to these sublime subjects, other 
sagacious and diligent minds have been 
inquiring into the most minute works of the 
Infinite Artificer : the same oare, the sauit> 



AND DIALOGUES. 



373 



providence, is exerted through the whole ; 
and we should learn from it, that, to true 
wisdom, utility and fitness appear perfection, 
and whatever is beneficial is noble. 

H. I approve of science, as far as it is 
assistant to action. I like the improvement 
of navigation, and the discovery of the greater 
part of the globe, because it opens a wider 
field for the master spirits of the world to 
bustle in. 

C» There spoke the soul of Hercules. 
But, if learned men are to be esteemed, for 
the assistance they give to active minds in 
their schemes, they are not less to be valued, 
for their endeavors to give them a right 
direction, and moderate their too great ardor. 
The study of history will teach the legislature 
by what means states have become powerful; 
and, in the private citizen, they will inculcate 
the love of liberty and order. The writings 
of sages point out a private path of virtue ; 
and show that the best empire is self-govern- 
ment, and, that subduing our passions, is the 
noblest of conquests. 

H, The true spirit of heroism acts by a 
generous impulse, and wants neither the 
experience of history, nor the doctrines of 
philosophers, to direct it. But do not arts 
and science render men effeminate, luxurious, 
and inactive? and can you deny, that wit and 
learning are often made subservient to very 
bad purposes ? 

C. I will own that there are some natures 
so happily formed, they scarcely want the 
assistance of a master, and the rules of art, 
to give them force or grace, in every thing 
they do. But these favored geniuses are few. 
As learning flourishes only where ease, plenty, 
and mild government subsists ; in so rich a 
soil, and under so soft a climate, the weeds 
of luxury will spring up amid the flowers of 
art : but the spontaneous weeds would grow 
more rank, if they were allowed the undis- 
turbed possession of the field. Letters keep 
a frugal, temperate nation from growing 
ferocious, a rich one from becoming entirely 
sensual and debauched. Every gift of Heaven 
is sometimes abused ; but good sense and fine 
talents, by a natural law, gravitate towards 
virtue. Accidents may drive them out of 
their proper direction ; but such accidents are 
an alarming omen, and of dire portent to the 
times. For, if virtue cannot keep to her 
allegiance those men, who, in their hearts, 
confess her divine right, and. know the value 
of her laws, on whose fidelity and obedience 
can she depend? May such geniuses never 
descend to flatter vice, encourage folly, or 
propagate irreligion ; but exert all their powers 
in the service of virtue, and celebrate the 
noble choice oi those, who, like Hercules, 
preferred her to pleasure ! 

776.. RIGHT OF ENGLAND TO TAX dERICA.— BURKE. 

Oh! inestimable right! Oh! wonderful, 
transcendent right, the assertion of which 
has cost this country thirteen provinces, six 
islands, one hundred thousand lives, and 
•eventy millions of money ! Oh ! invaluable 
right ! for the sake of which, we have sacrificed 
oar rank among nations, our importance abroad. 



and our happiness at home ! Oh ! right ! more 
dear to us than our existence, which has 
already cost us so much, and which seems 
likely to cost us all. 

Infatuated man! (fixing his eye on the 
minister,) miserable and undone country ! not 
to know that the claim of right, without the 
power of enforcing it, is nugatory and idle. 
We have a right to tax America, the noble 
lord tells us ; therefore we ought to tax 
America, This is the profound logic, which 
comprises the whole chain of his reasoning. 
Not inferior to this was the wisdom of him, 
who resolved to shear the wolf. What! 
shear a wolf! Have you considered the 
resistance, the difficulty, the danger of the 
attempt? No, says the madman, I have 
considered nothing but the right. Man has 
a right of dominion over the beasts of the 
forest; and, therefore, I will shear the wolf. 
How wonderful, that a nation could be thus 
deluded. 

But the noble lord deals in cheats and 
delusions. They are the daily traffic of his 
invention; and he will continue to play off 
his cheats on this House, so long as he thinks 
them necessary to his purpose, and so long as 
he has money enough at command, to bri-be 
gentlemen to pretend that they believe him. 
But a black and bitter day of reckoning will 
surely come; and, whenever that day come, 
I trust I shall be able, by a parliamentary 
impeachment, to bring upon the heads of tte 
authors of our calamities, the punishment 
they deserve. 

777. THE FOURTH OF JULY. — ANONYMOUS. 

1. Hail our country's natal morn ! 
Hail our spreading kindred born ! 
Hail thou banner, not yet torn ! 

Waving o'er the free ; 

2. While this day, in festal throng, 
Millions swell the patriot song, 
Shall not we thy notes prolong, 

Hallowed Jubilee? 

3. Who would sever freedom's shrine ? 
Who would draw the invidious line ? 
Chough by birth, one spot be mine, 

Dear is all the rest : 

4. Dear to me the South's fair land, 
Dear the central mountain band, 
Dear New England's rocky strand, 

Dear the prairied West. 

5. By our altars, pure and free, 
By our law's deep rooted tree, 
By the past dread memory, 

By our Washington ; 

6. By our common parent tongue, 

By our hopes, bright, buoyant, youngj 
By the tie of country, strong, 

We will still be one. 

7. Fathers ! have ye bled in vain ; 
Ages ! must ye droop again ? 
Maker ! shall we rashly stain 

Blessings sent by thee ? 

8 No ! receive our solemn vow, 
While before thy throne we bow, 
Ever to maintain as now, 

Union, Liberty. 



374 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



77S. WILLIAM TELL.— XN0WLE3. 

Gcsler, the tyrant. Sarnem, his office?; and 
William Tell, a Swiss peasant. 

Sar. Down, slave, upon thy knees, before 
the governor, 
And beg for mercy. 

Ges. Does he hear ? 

Sar. He does, but braves thy power. [ To 
Tell.] Down, slave, 
And ask for life. 

Ges. [To Tell.] Why speakest thou not ? 

Tell. For wonder ! 

Ges. "Wonder? 

Tell. Yes, that thou shouldst seem a ma7i. 

Ges. What should I seem ? 

Tell. A monster. 

Ges Ha ! Beware ! — think on thy chains. 

Tell. Though they were doubled, and did 
weigh me down 
Prostrate to earth, methinks I could rise up 
Erect, with nothing but the honest pride 
Of telling thee, usurper, to thy teeth, 
Thou art a monster. — Think on my chains ! 
How came they on me ? 

Ges. Darest thou question me ? 

Tell. Darest thou answer ? 

Ges. Beware my vengeance. 

Tell. Can it more than kill ? 

Ges. And is not that enough ? 

Tell. No, not enough : 
It cannot take away the grace of life — 
The comeliness of look, that virtue gives — 
Its port erect, with consciousness of truth — 
Its rich attire of honorable oeeds — 
Its fair report, that's rife on good men's tongues : 
It cannot lay its hand on these, no more 
Than it can pluck his brightness from the sun, 
Or, with polluted finger, tarnish it. 

Ges. But it can make thee writhe. 

Tell. It may, and I may say, 
Go on, though it should make me groan again. 

Ges. Whence comest thou ? 

Tell. From the mountains. 

Ges. Canst tell me any news from them? 

Tell. Ay; they watch no more the avalanche. 

Ges. Why so? 

Tell. Because fhey look for thee. The 
hurricane 
Comes unawares upon them; from its bed 
The torrent breaks, and finds them in its track. 

Ges, What then? 

Tell. They thank kind Providence, it is 
not thou. 
Thouhast perverted nature in them. The earth 
Presents her fruits to them, and is not thanked. 
The harvest sun is constant, and they scarce 
Return his smile. Their flocks and herds 

increase, 
And they look on, as men, who count a loss. 
There's not a blessing, Heaven vouchsafes 

them, but 
The thought of thee doth wither to a curse, 
As something they mustlose, and hadfar better 
L ack. 

Ges. 'Tis well. I'd have them, as their hills, 
That never smile, though wanton summer tempt 
Them e'er so much. 

T n . But they do sometimes smile. 

Ges. Ah ! when is that? 

Tell. When they do pray for vengeance, 

Ges. Dare they pray for that ? 



Tell. They dare, and they expect it, too. 

Ges. From whence 1 

Tell. From Heaven, and their true heart* 

Ges. [To Sarnem.] Lead in his son. Novr 
will I take 
Exquisite vengeance. [To Tell, as the boy 

enters.] I have destined him 
To die along with thee. 

Tell. To die! for what ? he's but a child. 

Ges. He's thine, however. 

Tell. He is an only child. 

Ges. So much the easier, to crush the race. 

Tell. He may have a mother. 

Ges. So the viper hath — 
And yet, who spares it, for the mother's sake? 

Tell. I talk to stone. I'll talk to it no more. 
Come, my boy, I taught thee how to live — 
I'll teach thee — how to die. 

Ges. But, first, I'd t>ee thee make 
A trial of thy skill, with that same bow. 
Thy arrows never miss, 'tis said. 

Tell. What is the trial ? 

Ges. Thou look'st upon thy boy, as though 
thou guessest it. 

Tell. Look upon my boy! What mean you? 
Look upon my boy, as though I guessed it ! — 
Guessed the trial, thou'dst have me make ! — 
Guesseditinstinctively! Thoudostnotmean— 
No, no — thou wouldst not have me make 
A trial of my skill upon my child ! — , 

Impossible ! I do not guess thy meaning. 

Ges. I'd see thee hit an apple on his head, 
Three hundred paces off. 

Tell. Great Heaven! 

Ges. On this condition, only, will I spare 
His life and thine. 

Tell. Ferocious monster ! make a father 
Murder his own child ! 

Ges. Dost thou consent ? 

Tell. With his own hand ! — 
The hand I've led him, when an infant, by ! 
My hands are free from blood, and have no gust 
For it, that they should drink my child's. 
I'll not murder my boy, for Gesler. 

Boy. You will not hit me, father. You'll 
be sure 
To hit the apple. Will you not save me, father t 

Tell. Lead me forth — I'll make the trial. 

Boy. Father 

Tell. Speak not to me ; 
Let me not hear thy voice — thou must be 

dumb; 
And so should all things be — Earth should 

be dumb, 
And Heaven, unless its thunder muttered at 
The deed, and sent a bolt to stop it. 
Give me my bow and quiver. 

Ges. When all is ready. Sarnem, measure 
hence 
The distance — three hundred paces. 

Tell. Will he do it fairly ? 

Ges. What is't to thee, fairly, or not ? 

Tell. [Sarcastically.] Oh, nothing, a UttU 
thing, 
A very little thing, I only shoot 
At my child ! 

[ Sarnem prepares to measure.] 

Tell. Villain, stop ! You measure againsi 

the sun. 
Ges. And what of that? 
What matter whether to, or from the sun 1 



AND DIALOGUES. 



37* 



Tell. I'd have it at my back. The sun 
should shine 
Upon the mark, and not on him that shoots — 
I will not shoot against the sun. 

Ges. Give him his way. [Sarnem paces 
and goes out.] 

Tell. I should like to see the apple I 
must hit. 

Ges. [Picks out the smallest one.] There, 
take that. 

Tell. You've picked the smallest one. 

Ges. 1 know I have. Thy skill will be 
The greater, if thou hittest it. 

Tell. [Sarcastically.] True — true! I did 
not think of that. 
I wonder I did not think of that. A larger one 
Had given me a chance to save my boy. 
Give me my bow. Let me see my quiver. 

Ges. Give him a single arrow. [To an 
attendant.] 
[ Tell looks at it and breaks it.] 

Tell. Let me see my quiver. It is not 
One arrow in a dozen, I would use 
To shoot with at a dove, much less, a dove 
Like that. 

Ges. Show him the quiver. 
[S'irnem returns and takes tlie apple and the 

boy to place them. While this is doing, Tell 

conceals an arrow under his garment. He 

then selects another arrow, and says,] 

Tell Is the boy ready. Keep silence, now, 
For Heaven's sake, and be my witnesses, 
That if his life's in peril from my hand, 
'Tis only for the chance of saving it. 
For mercy's sake, keep motionless and silent. 
[He aims and shoots in the direction of the boy. 

In a moment Sarnem enters with the apple 

on the arrow's point.] 

Sarnem. The boy is safe. 

Tell. [Raising his arms.] Thank Heaven ! 
[As he raises his arms the concealed arroivfatls.] 

Ges. [Picking it up.] Unequalled archer! 
why was this concealed ? 

Tell. To kill thee, tyrant, had I slain my boy. 

779. COMMERCE, ART, AND RELIGION.— G. R.RUSSELL. 

The torrent of northern barbarism, which 
swept away the Roman empire, interrupted 
the connection between all the mercantile 
communities of the west, for such a length of 
time, that they were almost ignorant of the 
existence of each other. The new capital of 
Constautine preserved the remnants of this 
disorganization, and became the nucleus, from 
which, after a long interval, were extended 
the rays that illumined the commercial world, 
and gave light and motion to civilization. 

Out of the deep darkness a new power 
emerged, amidst the lagoons of the Adriatic, 
and rival cities arose from the foot of the Ap- 
penines, and on the shores of the Amo.' Venice, 
Genoa, Pisa, and Florence, strove, with alter- 
nate fortune, for the sovereignty of the Medi- 
terranean, and, as ample wealth flowed in upon 
them, it was liberally given for the encourage- 
ment of science and promotion of talent. The 
marble palaces of merchant princes were the 
homes of painting, poetry, and sculpture, and 
men, whose names suggest whatever is most 
magnificent in art. were their familiar and 
welcome y tests. Medici, Doria, Coatarini, are 



associated with Michael Angelo, Titian, and 
the long array of genius, which has left enough 
to awaken the wonder and court the compe- 
tition of all coming time. At shrines, to which 
the young aspirant of all lands makes his pil- 
grimage, and the traveller in the excess of 
beauty before him confesses the imperfection 
ot his own ideal, did the merchant and artist 
live in friendly union, the profession of the 
one ministering to the skill and inspiration of 
the other, both adding to the sum of human 
happiness, and securing the gratitude of pos- 
terity for the elegance and taste they originated 
and bequeathed. The example of thesu trading 
republics extended over Europe. The barba- 
rian, amidst the ruins of the Western Empire, 
was tamed into humanity as he felt its influ- 
ence, and saw, in his amazement, the results 
produced by peaceful industry. 

There has always been an intimate connec 
tion between religion and commerce. The 
relation of priest and merchant has been main- 
tained from the remotest times. Where the 
caravan halted, and the camel knelt to be re 
lieved of his load, and the trader found tempo- 
rary repose, the temple rose, and the servant 
of the altar sacrificed, and the pilgrim wor- 
shipped. Men congregated, and by gradual 
processes the stopping-place became populous 
and powerful. The association continued in 
the subsequent revolutions of empire, and the 
tie, which binds worldly interest to spiritual 
power, has ever been most strongly manifested 
in this union. War has brought in his trophies, 
and the blood-stained banner has drooped en 
walls sacred to peace. But he has oftener 
desecrated than reverenced, and spoils have 
more frequently gone out of the door than 
entered into it. The tread of the soldier en 
the cliurch pavement has not always indicated 
a holy regard for stole and surplice, and the 
sound of his arms has sometimes been in harsh 
discordance with the sacring-bell. 

There has never been dis^nst between 
commerce and religion. The q> "^ae-e of 

the former, and the dependence ot ti, v ^ on 
the other, have been given and received in 
kindly confidence. They have kept togethet 
through the changing faiths, which have pro 
gressively swayed the races of men, and 
whenever they have separated, it has bee* 
that one might serve as herald to the othei ' 
and prepare for the joint occupancy of both. 

7SO. ONE GOOD TURN DESERVES ANOTHER. 
MRS. GILMAN. 

Will Wag -went to see Charley Quirk, 

More famed for his books than his knowledge. 
In order to borrow a work, 

He had sought for, in vain, over college. 
But Charley replied, "My dear friend, 

You must know, I have sworn and agreed, 
My books from my room not to lend — 

But you may sit by my fire, and read." 
Now it happened, by chance, on the morrow. 

That Quirk, with a cold, quivering air, 
Came, his neighbor Will's bellows to borrow. 

For his own, they were out of repair. 
But Willy replied, " My dear friend, 

I have sworn and agreed, you must know, 
That my bellows I never will lend — 

But you may sit by my fire 4 and blow. 7 ' 



376 

rsi. 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



PATRIOTISM.— TRIBUTE TO WASHINGTON. 
HARRISON. 

Hard, hard indeed, was the contest for free- 
dom, and the struggle for independence. The 
golden sun of liberty had nearly set, in the 
gloom of an eternal night, ere its radiant beams 
illumined our western horizon. Had not the 
tutelar saint of Columbia hovered around the 
American camp, and presided over her desti- 
nies, freedom must have met with an untimely 
grave. Never, can we sufficiently admire the 
visdom of those statesmen, and the skill and 
bravery of those unconquerable veterans, who, 
by their unwearied exertions in the cabinet 
and in the field, achieved for us the glorious 
evolution. Never, can we duly appreciate 
the merits of a Washington, who, with but a 
handful of undisciplined yeomanry, triumphed 
over a royal army, and prostrated the lion of 
England at the feet of the American Eagle. 
His name, — so terrible to his foes, so welcome 
to his friends, — shall live, for ever, upon the 
brightest page of the historian, and be remem- 
bered with the warmest emotions of gratitude 
and pleasure, by those, whom he has contrib- 
uted to make happy, and by all mankind, when 
kings, and princes, and nobles, for ages, shall 
have sunk into their merited oblivion. Unlike 
them, he needs not the assistance of the sculp- 
tor, or the architect, to perpetuate his memory : 
he needs no princely dome, no monumental 
pile, no stately pyramid, whose towering 
height shall pierce the stormy clouds, and 
rear its lofty head to heaven, to tell posterity 
his fame. His deeds, his worthy deeds, alone 
have rendered him immortal ! When oblivion 
shall have swept away thrones, kingdoms, and 
principalities — when every vestige of human 
greatness, and grandeur, and glory, shall have 
mouldered into dust, eternity itself shall catch 
the glowing theme, and dwell, with increasing 
rapture, on his name ! 

782. THE FAMINE IN IRELAND.— S. S. PRENTISS. 

There lies, upon the other side of the wide 
Atlantic, a beautiful island, famous in story, 
and in song. It has given to the world, more 
than its share, of genius and of greatness. It 
has been prolific in statesmen, warriors, and 
poets. Its brave and generous sons have 
fought, successfully, in all battles but its own. 
In wit and humor, it has no equal ; while its 
harp, like its history, moves to tears, by its 
sweet but melancholy pa.tb.os. In this fair 
region, God has seen fit to send the most ter- 
rible of all those fearful ministers, who fulfil 
his inscrutible decrees. The earth has failed 
to give her increase ; the common mother has 
forgotten her offspring, and her breast no longer 
affords them th°ir accustomed nourishment. 
Famine, gaunt and ghastly fanine, has seized 
a nation with its strangling grasp ; and unhappy 
Ireland, in the sad woes of the present, forgets, 
for a moment, the gloomy history of the past. 

In battle, in the fulness of his pride and 
strength, little recks the soldier, whether the 
hissing bullet sing his sudden requiem, or the 
cords of life are severed by the sharp steel. 
But hr, who dies of hunger, v/restles alone, day 
after day, with his grim and unrelenting enemy. 
He has no friends, to -.heer him in the terrible 



conflict; for if he had friends, how ceilu he 
die of hunger? He has not the hot blood of 
the soldier to maintain him; for his foe, vain- 
pire-like, has exhausted his veins. 

Who will hesitate to give his mite, to avert 
such awful results? Give, then, generously, 
and freely. Recollect, that in so doing, you are 
exercising one of the most godlike qualities of 
your nature, and at the same time enjoying one 
of the greatest luxuries of life. We ought 
to thank our Maker, that lie has permitted ua 
to exercise, equally with himself, that noblest 
of even the Divine attributes, benevolence. Go 
home, and look at your family, smiling in rosy 
health, and then, think of the pale, famine 
pinched cheeks of the poor children of Ireland ; 
and you will give, according to your store, 
even as a bountiful Providence has given to 
you — not grudgingly, but with an open hand ; 
for the quality of benevolence, like that of 
mercy, 

" Is not strained ; 
It droppeth like the gentle rain from Heaven, 
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed : 
It blesses him, that gives, and him, that takes." 

7S3. WASHINGTON, A MAN OF GENIUS.— E. P. WHIPPLE 

How many times, have we been told, that 
Washington was not a man of genius, but a 
person of excellent common sense, of admirable 
judgment, of rare virtues! He had no genius, 
it seems. O no! genius, we must suppose, is 
the peculiar and shining attribute of seme 
orator, whose tongue can spout patriotic 
speeches; or some versifier, whose muse can 
Hail Columbia, but not of the man. who sup- 
ported states on his arm, and carried America 
in his brain. What is genius? Is it worth 
any thing? Is splendid folly the measure of 
its inspiration ? Is wisdom its base, and sum- 
mit—that which it recedes from, or tends 
towards? And, by what definition, do you 
award the name, to the creator of an epic, and 
deny it to the creator of a country? On what 
principle is it to be lavished on him, who sculp- 
tures, in perishing marble, the image of possible 
excellence, and withheld from him, who built 
up in himself, a transcendent character, inde- 
structible as the obligations of duty, and beau- 
tiful as her rewards ? 

Indeed, if by the genius of action, you mean 
will, enlightened by intelligence, and intelli- 
gence energized by will, — if force and insight 
be its characteristics, aud influence its test, 
and if great effects suppose a cause propor- 
tionally great, a vital, causative mind, — then, 
was Washington, most; assuredly, a man of 
genius, and one, whom no other American has 
equalled, in the power of working, morally 
aud mentally, on other minds. His genius was 
of a peculiar kind, the genius of character, of 
thought, and the objects of thought, solidified 
and concentrated into active faculty. He 
belongs to that rare class of men. — rare as 
Homers and Miltons, rare as Platos and New 
tons, — who have impressed their characters 
upon nations, without pampering r.ationa. 
vices. Such men have natures broad enough, 
to include all the facts of a people's practical 
life, and deep enough, to discern the spiritua. 
laws, which underlie, animate, anc govern 
those facts. 



AND DIALOGUES. 



377 



*84. NEW ENGLAND AND THE UNION.— 8. S. PRENTISS. 

Glorious New England ! thou art still true 
to thy ancient fame, and worthy of thy ances- 
tral honors. On thy pleasant valleys, rest, like 
sweet dews of morning, the gentle recollections 
of our early life; around thy hills, and moun- 
tains, cling, like gathering mists, the mighty 
memories of the revolution ; and far away in 
the horizon of thy past gleam, like thy own 
bright northern lights, the awful virtues of our 
Pilgrim sires ! But while we devote this day 
to the remembrance of oar native land, we 
forget not that in which our happy lot is cast. 
We exult in the reflection, that though we 
count, by thousands, the miles, which separate 
us from our birthplace, still, our country is the 
same. We are no exiles, meeting upon the 
banks of a foreign river, to swell its waters 
with our homesick tears. Here, floats the same 
banner, which rustled above our. boyish heads, 
except that its mighty folds are wider, and its 
glittering stars increased in number. 

The sons of New England are found in every 
state of the broad republic ! In the East, the 
South, and the unbounded West, their blood 
mingles, freely, with every kindred current. 
We have but changed our chamber in the 
paternal mansion ; in all its rooms, we are at 
home, and all who inhabit it, are our brothers. 
To us, the Union has but one domestic hearth ; 
its household gods are all the same. Upon us, 
then, peculiarly devolves the duty of feeding 
the fires, upon that kindly hearth ; of guarding, 
with pious care, those sacred household 
gods. 

We cannot do with less, than the whole 
Union ; to us, it admits of no division. In the 
veins of our children, flows northern and 
southern blood: how shall it be separated? who 
shall put asunder the best affections of the 
heart, the noblest instincts of our nature ? We 
love the land of our adoption ; so do we that 
of our birth. Let us ever be true to both ; and 
aiways exert ourselves, in maintaining the 
unity of our country, the integrity of the 
republic. 

Accursed, then, be the hand, put forth to 
loosen the golden cord of union ! thrice ac- 
cursed, the traitorous lips, which shall propose 
its severance ! 

785. THE SPENT OP HUMAN LIBERTY.— WEBSTEB. 

The spirit of human liberty, and of free go- 
vernment, nurtured and grown into strength 
and beauty, in America, has stretched its 
course into the midst of the nations. Like an 
emanation from heaven, it has gone forth, and 
it will not return void. It mast change, it is 
fast changing, the face of the earth. Our great, 
our high duty, is to show, in our own examples, 
that this spirit, is a spirit of health, as well as 
a spirit of power ; that its benignity is as great 
as its strength , that its efficiency, to secure 
individual rightB, social relations, and moral 
order, is equal to the irresistible force, with 
which it prostrates principalities and powers. 
The world, at this moment, is regarding as 
with a willing, but something of a fearful ad- 
miration. Its deep and awful anxiety is to 
»earn, whother free states may be stable, as 



well as free ; whether popular power may be 
trusted, as well as feared; in short, whether 
wise, regular, and virtaoas self-government is 
a vision, for the contemplation of theorists, or 
a truth, established, illustrated, and brought 
into practice, in the country of Washington. 

Eor the earth, which we inhabit, and the 
whole circle of the sun, for all the unborn races 
of mankind, we seem to hold in our hands, for 
their weal or woe, the fate of this experiment. 
If we fail, who shall venture the repetition ? 
If our example shall piove to be one, not of 
encouragement, but of terror, not fit to be imi- 
tated, but fit only to be shunned, where else, 
shall the world look for free models ? If this 
great western sun be struck out of the firma- 
ment, at what other fountain shall the lamp of 
liberty hereafter be lighted ? What other orb 
shall emit a ray to glimmer, even, on the dark- 
ness of the world 1 

786. SPECTACLES. — BYROM. 

A certain artist, (I've forgot his name,) 
Had got, for making spectacles, a fame, 
Or " Helps to Read"— as, (when they first were 

sold,) 
"Was wit upon his glaring sign, in gold ; 
And, for all uses to be had from glass,. 
His were allowed, by readers, to surpass 
There came a mau into his shop one day — 
Are you the spectacle Contriver, pray ? 
Yes, Sir, said he, I can, in that affair, 
Contrive to please you, if you want «a pair. 
Can you? pray do, then. So, at first, he chose 
To place a youngish pair upon his nose ; 
And book produced, to see how they would fit : 
Asked how he liked 'em ? — Like 'em ? Not a bit. 
Then, Sir, I fancy, if you please to try, 
These in my hand will better suit your eye : 
No — but they don't. "Well, come, Sir, if you please, 
Here is another sort, we'll e*en try these ; 
Still, somewhat more, they magnify the letter : 
Now, Sir ? — Why now — I'm not a bit the better- 
No ! here, take these, that magnify still more ; 
How do they fit ? — Like all the rest before. 
In short, they tried a whole assortment through, 
But all in vain, for none of 'em would do, 
The Operator, much surprised to find 
So odd a case, thought — sure the man is blind : 
What sort of eyes can you have got ? said he. 
Why, very good ones, friend, as you may see ; 
Tes, I perceive the clearness of the ball — 
Pray, let me ask you — Can yon read at all ? 
No, you great Blockhead ; if I could, what need 
Of paying you, for any Helps to Read ? 
And so he left the maker, in a heat, 
Resolved to post him, for an arrant cheat. 

787. soul's glimpses of immortality TAYLCB. 

The soul, at times, in Bilence of the night, 

Has flashes — transient intervals of light ; 

When things to come, without a shade of doubt, 

In dread reality, stands fully out. 

Those lucid moments suddenly present 

Glances of truth,, as though the heavens were reni 

And, through the chasm of celestial light, 

The future breaks upon the startled sight, 

Life's vain pursuits, and time's advancing pace, 

Appear, with death-bed clearness, face to face ; 

And immortality's expanse sublime, 

In just proportion, to the speck of time ! 

Whilst death, uprising from the silent shade, 

Shows his dark outline, ere the vision fade ! 

In strong relief, against the blazing sky. 

Appears the shadow, as it passes by ; 

And, though o'erwhelming to the dazzled brain, 

These are the moments when the mind is san<*. 



378 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, 



7SS. 



OUB MERCHANTS AND SHIP-MASTERS 



G. R. RUSSELL. 



The commerce of our own country is co- 
extensive with the globe. We are thoroughly 
a mercantile people. We have vexed questions 
of tariff and free trade ; but, whatever are our 
opinions on them, there can be no one opposed 
to the just maintenance and protection of what 
involves the interests of manufacturer and mer- 
chant, and gives the farmer an inducement to 
labor beyond necessity, by offering him means 
to dispose of his surplus. 

All classes, with us, are connected with 
commerce, and are, in some way, interested 
in its welfare. There is gloom over society 
when the ship stops too long at the wharf, and 
the prices current manifest depression. Anx- 
iety is not confined to faces on " 'change." 
There are haggard looks among laboring men 
wanting work, and the stillness in the shop of 
the mechanic, denotes the state of trade. The 
mill wheel groans at half speed ; the mule 
works lazily ; the crowded warehouse will not 
admit another yard, and the stockholder con- 
soles himself for no dividends, by abusing 
government. But the ship has hauled into the 
stream, and the sailor heaves cheerily at the 
anchor. The merchant moves briskly, and 
looks as though chancery had always been a 
mythical conception. The hard featured bank 
smiles grimly, as it loosens its stringent gripe, 
and the original phrase of " tightness in the 
money market" is dropped for a season. There 
is stir and bustle in the street ; the sound of 
the saw and hammer is heard again; manu- 
facturing stock looks up at the brokers' board, 
and the government is not so very bad, after all. 

The American merchant is a type of this 
restless, adventurous, onward going race and 
people. He sends his merchandise all over the 
earth ; stocks every market ; makes wants 
that he may supply them ; covers the New 
Zealander with Southern cotton woven in 
Northern looms ; builds blocks of stores in the 
Sandwich Islands ; swaps with the Feejee 
cannibal; sends the whale ship among the 
icebergs of the poles, or 10 wander in solitary 
seas, till the log-book tells the tedious sameness 
of years, and boys become men; gives the ice 
of a northern winter to the torrid zone, piles 
up Eresh Pond on the banks of the Hoogly, 
gladdens the sunny savannahs of the dreamy 
South, and makes life tolerable in the bungalow 
of an Indian jungle. The lakes of NewEngland 
awake to life by the rivers of the sultry East, 
and the antipodes of the earth come in contact 
at this " meeting of the waters." The white 
canvas of the American ship glances in every 
nook of every ocean. Scarcely has the slightest 
intimation come of some obscure, unknown 
corner of a .remote sea, when the captain is 
consulting his charts, in full career for the 
"terra incognita." 

The American ship-master is an able coad- 
jutor of the merchant. He is as intelligent in 
trade as in navigation, and combines all the 
requisites of seaman and commercial agent. 
He serves his rough apprenticeship in the 
forecastle, and enters the cabin door through 
gjany a herd gale, and weary night watch, 



His anxieties commence with his pronation. 
Responsibility is upon him. Life, and charac- 
ter, and fortune, depend on his skill and 
vigilance. He mingles with men of all nations, 
gathers information in all climes, maintains! 
the maritime reputation of his country, and 
shows his model of naval architecture wherever 
there is Bunshine and salt sea. He has books, 
and he reads them. He hears strange lan- 
guages, and he learns them. His hours of 
leisure are given to cultivation, and prepare 
him for well-earned ease and respectability in 
those halcyon days to come, so earnestly 
looked for, when he shall hear the roaring 
wind and pelting rain about his rural home, 
and shall not feel called upon to watch the 
storm. 

789. WHAT COMMERCE HAS DONE.— G. R. RDSSELL. 

What has Commerce done for the world, 
that its history, should be explored, its philoso- 
phy illustrated, its claim advanced among the 
influences which impel civilization. 

It has enabled man to avail himself of the 
peculiarities of climate or position, to make 
that division of labor which tends to equalize 
society, to distribute the productions of earth, 
and to teach the benefit of kindly dependence. 
It unites distant branches of the human family, 
cultivates the relation between them, encour- 
ages an interest in each other, and promotes 
that brotherly feeling, which is the strongest 
guaranty of permanent friendship. People 
differing in creed, in language, in dress, in 
customs, are brought in contact, to find how 
much there is universal to them all; and to 
improve their condition, by supplying the 
wants of one from the abundance of the other. 
The friendly intercourse, created by commerce, 
is slowly, but surely, revolutionizing the earth. 
There was a time when men met only on tho 
field of battle, and there was but one nam6 
for stranger and enemy. Now, wherever a 
ship can float, the various emblems of sove- 
reignty intermingle in harmony, and the sons 
of commerce, the wide world through, in 
consulting their own interests, advance the 
cause of humanity and peace. 

In looking for the mighty influences that 
control the progress of the human race, the 
vision of man ranges within the scope of bis 
own ephemeral existence, and he censures 
the justice which is steadfastly pursuing its 
course through the countless ages. We turn 
away bewildered by the calamities, which 
extinguish nationality in blood, and give, to 
the iron hand, fetters forged for the patriot. 
Let him who desponds for humanity, and 
mourns for faith misplaced, for hopes betrayed, 
for expectations unrealized, look back. Has 
revolution and change done nothing? Is 
there no advance from kingly prerogative, 
and priestly intolerance; no improvement 
on feudal tenure? The end is not yet. Let 
the downcast be cheered, for the Eternal 
Right watches over all, and it moves onward, 
to overcome in its good time. 

Among the great agencies, by which tho 
wisdom of God works out the problem of 
human destiny, the importance of Commerce 
will be acknowledged, whenever its philoso- 
phical history shall be written. 



AND DIALOGUES. 



379 



190. 



ALL LABOR EQUALLY HONORABLE. 
9. R. RUSSELL. 



I will inquire, whether the scholar would 
not occasionally consult his own welfare, by 
adopting an active pursuit, in which he might 
become distinguished, instead of clinging to 
mediocrity in a high profession, simply because 
he has received a degree from an university, 
and fears that he might fall from Brahmin to 
Pariah, and lose caste in the descent. There 
is an Aristocracy of letters, and it cannot only 
be borne, but regarded with reverence, when 
its claims are founded on intellectual supe- 
riority, or acquisition of knowledge surpassing 
that of ordinary men. But the pride that 
cannot read its diploma, without the aid of 
grammar and dictionary, should not be offended 
at the suggestion, that there are other roads 
to success than through the Court Room, 
Hospital, or Divinity School. There is esteem, 
respect, veneration, for the profound, conscien- 
tious lawyer, the skilful, scientific physician, 
and the fearless, truth-telling minister of Gofl. 
They are " all, all honorable men ;" no earthly 
position can be higher, no sphere of usefulness 
more extensive But it is another thing to 
adopt a profession, merely because it is 
considered respectable ; to be a nuisance in 
an unswept chamber, garnished with dusty 
newspapers, and a few dog-eared, bilious 
looking volumes, where the gaunt spider holds 
undisturbed possession, no fratricidal hand 
ejecting him from his cobweb office, for there 
is a tacit understanding between the occu- 
pants, and they practice in company, with 
that bond of sympathy, which arises from 
kindred employment; or, to become co-partner 
with death, as the sulky rattles and squeaks 
on the highway, with barely acquirement 
enough in it to pass for Doctor, reputation 
depending on some happy blunder, in the 
course of a series of experiments instituted on 
the ground that there is luck in many trials ; 
or to drag heavily along; where the spirit is 
weak and the flesh js unwilling, the six days' 
task a labor of desperation, reluctantly worried 
through, that there may be much endurance 
on the seventh. 

The common notion, that a collegiate educa- 
tion is a preparation for a learned profession 
alone, has spoiled many a good carpenter, 
done great injustice to the sledge and anvil, 
and committed fraud on the corn and potatoe 
Held. It turns a cold shoulder to the leather 
apron, sustains Rob Roy's opinion of weavers 
and spinners, looks superciliously on trade, 
and has an unqualified repugnance for every 
thing that requires the labor of hands as well 
as head. It keeps up the absurdity, that the 
farmer's son should not return to the plough, 
that the young mechanic must not again wield 
the hammer, and that four years are lost, 
when the graduate finds himself over the 
merchant's Letter-Book, instead of Black- 
stone's Commentaries ; as though education 
could not be useful out of an allotted line, and 
would not compensate its possessor, whether 
the sign over his door proclaims him shoemaker, 
©r attorney at law. 

He is wise, who, discovering for what he is 



qualified, dares do what he feels he can do 
well. What matters it, that a strip of parch- 
ment attests his prescriptive claim to scholastic 
honors, and a college catalogue wafts his name 
to posterity ? If he has a genius for making 
shoes, or laying stone wall, let him make 
shoes, or lay stone wall. E ither is as honorable 
as filling writs, prescribing do&es, or writing 
sermons because Sunday is coming. 

791. PRESS ON. 
Press on ! surmount the rocky steeps, 

Climb boldly, o'er tbe torrent's arch : 
He fails, alone, who feebly creeps, 

He wins, who dares the hero's march 
Be thou a hero ! let thy might 

Tramp on eternal snows its way, 
And, through the ebon walls of night, 

Hew down a passage unto day. 
Press on ! if once, and twice, thy feet 

Slip back, and stumble, harder try ; 
Prom him, who never dreads to meet 

Danger and death, they're sure to fly. 
To coward ranks, the bullet speeds, 

While, on their breasts, who never quail» 
Gleams, guardian of -chivalric deeds, 

Bright courage, like a coat of mail. 
Press on ! if Fortune play thee false 

To-day, to-morrow she'll be true ; 
Whom now she sinks, she now exalts, 

Taking old gifts, and granting new. 
The wisdom of the present hour 

Makes up for follies, past and gone : 
To weakness, strength succeeds, and power 

Prom frailty springs — press on i press on ! 
Therefore, press on ! and reach the goal, 

And gain the prize, and wear the crown : 
Paint not ! for, to the steadfast soul, 

Come wealth, and honor, and renown, 
To thine own self be true, and keep 

Thy mind from sloth, thy heart from soil j 
Press on ! and thou shalt surely reap 

A heavenly harvest, for thy toil ! 

792. THE PLOUGH. — ANONYMOUS 

Let them sing, who may, of the battle fray, 

And the deeds, that have long since past ; 
Let them chant, in praise of the tar, whose days 

Are spent on the ocean vast ; 
I would render to these, all the worship you please,, 

I would honor them, even now. 
But I'd give far more, from my heart's full store, 

To the cause of the Good Old Plough. 
How pleasant to me, is the song from the tree, 

And the rich and blossoming bough ; 
Oh ! these are the sweets, which the rustie greets, 

As he follows the Good Old Plough. 
Though he follows no hound, yet his day is crowned, 

With a triumph, as good, I trow, 
As though antlered head, at his feet lay dead, 

Instead of the Good Old Plough. 
Full many there be, that we daily see, 

With a selfish and hollow pride, 
Who the plougman's lot, in his humble cot, 

Wtth a scornful look deride. 
Yet, Vd rather take, aye, a hearty shake 

From his hand, than to wealthiness bow ; 
For the honest grasp, of that, hand's rough clasp 

Hath guided the Good Old Plough. 
All honor be, then, to these gray old men, 

When, at last, they are bowed with toil 
Their warfare then o'er, why, they battle no mor* 

For they've conquered the stubborn soil- 
And the chaplet each wears, is his silver hairs, 

And ne'er shall the victor's brow, 
With a laurelled crowx, to the grave go down. 

Like these sons of the Good Old Plough, 



S80 



READINGS, RECITATIONS, &c. 



793. WORK ENOUGH FOR ALL.— G. R. RUSSELL. 

It is a common complaint, perpetually 
reiterated, that the occupations of life are 
filled to overflowing; that the avenues to 
wealth, or distinction, are so crowded with 
competitors, that it is hopeless to endeavor to 
make way in the dense and jostling masses. 
Long before Cheops had planted the basement 
stone of his pyramid, when, Sphinx and Colossi 
had not yet been fashioned into their huge 
existence, and the untouched quarry had given 
out neither temple nor monument, the young 
Egyptian, as he looked along the Nile, may 
have mourned that he was born too late. 
Fate had done him injustice, in withholding 
his individual being till the destinies of man 
were accomplished. His imagination warmed 
at what he might have been, had his chances 
been commensurate with his merits ; but what 
remained for him now, in this worn out, 
battered, used up hulk of a world, but to 
sorrow for the good old times, which had 
exhausted all resources ! 

The Roman youth, as he assumed the 
''toga virilis," and, in all the consciousness 
of newly acquired dignity, folded about him 
his fresh insignia of manhood, thought that it 
should have been put on some centuries earlier. 
Standing amidst memorials of past glories, 
where arch and column told of triumphs, which 
had secured boundless dominion, he felt that 
nothing was left for the exercise of his genius, 
or the energies of his enterprise. 

The mournful lamentation of antiquity has 
not been weakened in its transmission, and it 
is not more reasonable now, than when it 
groaned by the Nile and Tiber. There is 
always room enough in the world, and work 
waiting for willing hands. The charm that 
conquers obstacle and commands success, is 
strong Will and strong Work. Application 
is the friend and ally of genius. The laborious 
scholar, the diligent merchant, the industrious 
mechanic, the hard-working farmer, are thriving 
men, and take rank in the world, while genius, 
by itself, lies in idle admiration of a fame that 
is ever prospective. The hare sleepsor amuses 
himself by the wayside, and the tortoise wins 
the race. 

Even the gold of California requires hard 
work. It cannot be had for the gathering, nor 
is it to be coaxed out with kid gloves. The 
patents of nobility, on the Sacramento, are 
tlie hard hand and the sun-burned face' of the 
laboring man. 

Genius will, alone, do but little in this 
matter-of fact, utilitarian, hard-working world. 
He who would master circumstances must 
come down from the clouds, and bend to 
unremitting toil. To few of the sons o£ men 
is given an exception from the common 
doom. 

" The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, 
Mat glance from heaven to earth, from earth to 
heaven," 

and yet, in all that space, encounter nothing 
but air, too impalpable to be wrought into a 
local habitation or a name. His suspended 

Een may wait in vain for the inspiration tliat 
i tc bring immortality • and when, at last, it 



descends on the expectant foolscap, it ia, 
perhaps, only to chronicle rhymes which shall 
jingle, for a day, in some weekly newspaper. 
He who draws on genius alone, is oftentimes 
answered by — no funds ; his drafts are unex- 
pectedly protested, and he finds himself 
bankrupt, even while unlimited wealth seems 
glittering around him. 

It is not revealed how much of the celebrity 
of gifted men has been dependent on " hard 
digging." The rough drafts of inspiration 
are not printed; the pen-crossings, •those 
modernized marks of the inverted slylvm, 
curl up chimney. There may have been 
much perplexity, before smooth verses, which 
fall so harmoniout^y on the ear, were tortured 
into existence; many a trial, before the 
splendid figure soald be hammered into shape. 
The wondrous efforts of the mightiest masters 
of art have so'ajthing in them besides genius. 
The transfigmed divinity of Raphael, and the 
walls covered over by a pencil which seems 
to have tao« dipped in sunbeams, are records 
not only of the mind, that could image to 
itself thoje creations, but of the intense study 
which, it is known, he devoted to the elements 
of his avt. Not by sudden flashes came the 
graceful proportions, which give such exceed- 
ing beauty to his works. Genius trusted not 
to itself alone, but gathered from science 
illustrated in the anatomical room, and from 
untiring contemplation of dead and living 
model, every auxiliary that could contribute 
to excellence. 

When Michael Angelo hewed out his 
thought in marble, or personated, in fresco, 
the awful conceptions of the bard he loved so 
well, giving material form to more than the 
ideal of Dante, he produced the result of 
profound meditation, mingled with the severest 
application to the acquirement of all knowledge 
that could aid his unrivalled power. 

794. CHRIST STILLING THE TEMPEST 
MRS. KEMAN8. 

Fear was within the tossing bark, 

When stormy winds grew loud ; 
And waves came rolling, high, and dark, 

And the tall mast was bowed. 

And men stood, breathless, in the dread, 

And baffled, in their skill — 
But One was there, who rose, and said 

To the wild sea, " Be still !" 

And the wind ceased — it ceased ! that wori 
Passed through the gloomy sky ; 

The troubled billows knew the Lord, 
And sank beneath his eye. 

And slumbers settled on the deep, 

And silence, on the blast, 
As when the righteous fall asleep, 

When death's fierce throes are past. 

Thou, that didst rule the angry hour, 
And tame the tempest's mood — 

Oh ! send the spirit forth in power, 
O'er our dark soul to brood. 

Thou, that didst bew the billow's pride, 

Thy mandates to fulfil — 
Oh ! speak, to passion's raging tide, 

Speak, and say—" Peace ! be etiu, !'» 



CONTENTS OF THE PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



3S1 



A— Us Sounds, 17, 18, 19, 20-2-4-7-9: Ab- 
stract Questions. 134-5 : Action and Reaction, 
82: Accent, 69, 80: Accommodating, 24: Acute 
Pain, 196: Admiration, 179, 198: Admonition, 
199. 201 : Advice to a Traveler, 151 : Afraid to do 
111,' 143: Afraid of Work, 80: Affectation, 202: 
Affect nous and Heart, 71 : A Fool, 192 : Afirm- 
ing, 200: Agriculture. 96: Agrippa's Promise kept, 
186: A get off, 33: Alderman's gieat Toe, 147 : 
Alexander and the Pirate, 110: All the Pauses, 
93: All the World a Stage. 154 : All the Vowel 
sounds, 33: Amazement, 188,201: Amusements, 
52: Anecdote on every page : Analysis and Syn- 
thesis, 24-9, &c: Analogies, 27. 72: Anger, 154, 
180-2: Anthony's Challenge, 89: Anxiety, 217: 
Application, 102: Appropriate Sign, 148: Archi- 
tecture, 103 : Arab and Foot prints, 86 : Arbitra- 
ry Rules, 162: Articulation, 24, 56: Arms, 224-9: 
A Scold, 55: Association of Ideas, 169; Aspi- 
rates, 65: Attention, 187: Astonishment, 198: 
Attitudes, 10, 236:,Au, 25-6: Authority, 44, 
202 : Autumn, 75, 96 : Awkwardness, 237 : Aver- 
sion, 179. 

B— one Sound, 35 : Base Character. 145 : Beau- 
ty, Wit and Gold, 142: Beautiful World, 197: 
Beauty, 136, 154: In the Deep, 164: Be earnest, 
139, 152 : Beware of relying too much on Inflec- 
tions, 169: Bible, 17, 128, 146: Birth Day, 71 : 
Bigots, 102: Blood Globules, 10: Boasting, 210: 
Blushing, 40: Boards or Sheep, 85 : Bound in 
calf, not lettered, 220: Botany, 93: Book-keep- 
ing, 36: Blundering on the Truth, 72: Boys and 
Frogs. 97 : Botany Bay Patriots, 160 : Blind 
man's Rose, 169 : Blown up Lieutenant, 71 : Bo- 
dy and Mind, 70: Bonaparte's Check, 52 : Boun- 
daries of Knowledge, 56 : Boundless Nature of 
Oratory, 66 : Book of Nature, 203: Bourdaloue, 
171: Braying, 223: Breathing, 9. 69. 87: Brough- 
am's Eye, 45 : Brotherly Love, 190 : Bruce and 
the Spider, 213 : Brutus, 32 : Buffoonery, 204 : 
Bunyan's Indictment, 211 : Butterfly, 117. 

C— its Sounds, 36-7-8-9 ; Cadence", 139 ; Catch- 
ing a Tartar, 27; Causes of Greek Perfection, 
27 ; Cause and Effect, 32, 99 ; Census of 1840, 
156 ; Ch. 37-9, 59 ; Changes, 40; Change, of Ac- 
cent, 71-2; Characteristics of Man, 119; Chil- 
dren and Animals, 121 ; Chinese, 33 ; Chinese 
I'hysicians, 136; Cheerfulness, 172; Child of 
Promise, 198 ; Christian Character, 53 ; Choice 
of a Husband, 135; Chemistry, 95; Cicero, 32, 
74,118,166,233; Clay, 149 ; Clemencv to Ruffi- 
ans. 210, 215; Clergyman in Lent, 63 ; "Classifica- 
tion of Consonants, 64-5-7-8; Client's Bones, 
145; Cobler, 122: Colon, 57; Colonel, his own 
trumpeter, 118; Coincidences, 87; Combina- 
tions of Waves, 130; Common Opinions, 55; 
Common Sens2, 107 ; Compassion, 117,123; Com- 
pressions and Contractions, 21 ; Commendation, 
205 ; Conciseness. 164; Conduct towards Swear- 
ers, 125 ; Confidence,— Courage, 210; Confine- 
ment of Debtors, 139; Contentment, 83; Con- 
quering Love, 168: Conjunction, 168; Contrary, 
157; Considerate Minister, 46 ; Contempt, 190; 
Construction of Houses, 105; Contrasts. 33; Con- 
sonant Sounds, 35; Constitutional Law, 115; 
Cottage for the Poor, 226 ; Cure for Sore Eyes, 
223 ; Curran, 19; his Daughter, 76. 

D— its Sounds, 40-1 ; Day of Life. 84; Dandy 
Officer, 155: Dandies and Puppies, 221 ; Danger- 
ous Biting. 76 ; Dangers of bad Company, 131 ; 
D<-ar Wife, 23; Delivery and Painting, 94; 
Death of a Heari-riiend, 97; Dead and Living 
Temples, 201; Deformed Chest, 9; Debt, 118; 
Deceiver, 145 ; Declamatory and Hortatory. 153; 
Dead Languages, 221 ; Departed Year, 45 ; Death 
and Idleness, 137 ; Demosthenes, 32, 74, 145, 166, 
233; Denying, 206; Despair, 185, 213; Delight, 
173; Despotism, 126; Delivery, 150-8; Dia- 
phragm, 10; Devotion, 189; Desire, 178; Dia- 
tonic Scale, 34, 154 ; Diphthongs, 31-2 ; Discre- 
tion, 177; D scovery of a Beauty. 22!) ; Disobe- 
dience to Deceased Parents, 227 ; Dissimulation, 



95 ; Difference 55, 64 ; Difficulty., Mil ; Discor 
ery of Glass, 78; Disease of the. Throat, 149 
Disinterestedness, 15£ ': Diogenes, 17; Dismiss 
ing, 207 ; Distraction, 2u7 ; Dr. Faustus and the 
Devil, 183 ; Division of Prose and Poetry, 7% 
164; Doctor 'm. 3b; Down with your Dust, 141 } 
Dorsal and Abdominal Muscles, b7; Dr. and Pa- 
ver, 106: Don't know him, 119; Double Mean- 
ing, 78; Dotage. 207; Don't Swear, 208; Dress, 
101; Dramatic, 153; Drunkard, 113; Draco's 
Laws, 15i ; Dyspepsia, 104; Dueling, 122; Du- 
ties, 30 ; Dying but once, 81; Dynamics, 140-2; 
Dying Christian, 123. 

E— its Sounds, 21-2-4-9, 57-8, 17 ; Eat Bacon, 
203; Ecstasy, 175; Educators, 25; Education, 18, 
25, 76, 143-7, 162, ISO, 236; Effects of Know- 
ledge, 138: Effective Style, 162; Effects of Suc- 
cess, 204;' Eliza's wise Choice, 207; Elocution, 
18. 28, 33-9, 45, 156; Elocutionist, 37; Eloquence, 
126, 163-4 ; Emmet's Betrothed, 76 ; End, Cause, 
Effect, 124-8, 132; Emphasis, 98, 118; by Stress, 
101-2-3; by Changing it, 102-4-5; by higher Pitch, 
106; by Quantity, 107-8-9; by a Pause, 113; 
Enjoyment, 94 ; Eau, Ew, 25; Enunciation, 61 ; 
Encouraging, 208; Envy, 152; Epitaph, 129; En- 
vv and Jealousv, 166; Earnestness of Manner, 
151 ; Error and" Truth, 24; Equality. 51; Eter- 
nalJoy, 28; Eternal Progress, 37 ; Etiquette of 
Stairs, and of Riding, 191; Evening Bells, 27; 
Ethics, 106; Eve's Lament, 137; Everything 
Useful, 214 ; Eve, 233 ; Experience, 87, 144 ; Ex- 
clamation, 90 ; Extemporizing, 138, 156; Explo- 
sion and Expulsion, the difference, 26,63; Ex- 
tremes, 208; Eyes, 228. 

F— its Sounds, 42-3; Face, 227 ; Faults in Ar- 
ticulation, 43; Fatigue, 209; Far West, £8; Feet 
and Hands. 11, 225-6, 236; Female Education, 
137; Fear, 191 ; Fisherman, 115; Finishing one's 
Studies, 67; Force of Habit, 115; Folly and Wis- 
dom. 97 ; Flying from and to the Church, 117; 
Forehead, 2y2; Free to do Good, 192; Freedom, 
28, 78; Franklin's Epitaph, 204; Freedom of- 
Thought, 45 ; Free Schools. 173; 44 Sounds, 63; 
Frederick the Great, 47; Friendship, 171 ; Free- 
dom of the Press, 148 ; Forming Theories, 232; 
Fright, 183; Fury.' 180. 

G — its Sounds, 44-5-6 ; Gambling. 153 ; Gener- 
al Intelligence, 23; Geography, 101; Garrick 
175, 224; he sat for Fielding's portrait, 219; 
Gentleman and Tenant, 83; Genius, 219; Ges- 
tures, 231; Gh, 42-5; Giving, Granting, 210" 
Glottis, 11 ; Goblin full of Wrath, 126; Good 
Sense, 84; Goodness of Providence, 81; Goor 1 
Works, 126; Goldsmith's Gold Pill, 121; Good 
Name, 128; Good Example. 149; Government 
116, 139; Grand Objects, 56; Gradations, 50 ' 
Gratitude, 163. 211; Gravity, 209: Greek and 
Irish, 101; Great Mistake, 231; Grief. 184, 213, 
Grumblers, 151 ; 

H— 47, 62-3-5-8; Half Murder, 127; Hamlet'a 
Instructions on Delivery, 157; Hands and Feet, 
11, 224-9; Habits of Thought, 19 ; Habits, 29; 
Hatred. 179. 182; Happiness. 204; Hard Ques- 
tions, 223: Harrison and Sunday School Teach- 
er, 41 ; Half Mourning, 61; Hally and Newton, 
65; Heart and Lungs. 10; Head, 227; Hanging 
for Fashion's Sake, 91 ; Hearing and Speaking, 
168; Heathens going to Heaven, 133; Historian, 
194 ; Too High or too Low, 133; Home, 41. 166 j 
Hope, 157, 17S; Honesty, 174; Honor, 49. 193, 
209; Howard, 59, 25, 226; Hoarseness— Cause, 
and Cure. 62; Horticulture, 98: Holding one's 
own. 69: Horace, 74; How to Prize good For- 
tune, 209; How to Succeed, 146, 236 ; How to 
get rid of Admirers. 149; How to produce Sounds, 
18: Human Form Clothed. 8; Human Nature, 
178; Human Testimony, 1S1 ; Humbugs, 108; 
Humanity Rewarded. 33. 

I— its Sounds, 23-4; 21-2-9, £8; Important 
Considerations, 73, 108; Ideas, 159; Ignorance 
and Error, 160-9: and Willfulness, 161: Impa- 
tience. 210 ; Importance of Early Principle* 186 j 



3S2 



CONTENTS OF THE PRINCIPLES OF ELOCUTION. 



Imagination, 166: Inadequacy of Language, So : 
Independent* Forever, 104, BSj Indian Virtue. 

835; Injuring Others, 2l'f ; Inflections, 119, 125, 
109; Inducing Disease, 127; Influence. 70, 100; 
Import nice of Observation, 86; Inconsistency, 
115: Industry. !>!>, 164; Innocent and Guilty, 25; 
In the Truth, IS; Interrogation. 89; Intellectual. 
/I; Intentions, 71; Intuition, 157; Invalds, 122: 
Involuntary efforts, 99; Investigation of Thought, 
190; Irresolution, 172, 217; It looked so Pretty, 
129 

J— its Sounds, 44.58: Jaw Breakers, 61. and 
from 17 — C-2 ; Jealousy, 214. 224; Joy, 173; Jolly 
Laughter, 174; Judging, 215: Jury and the Liar, 
120: Justice, 92: Just Aristides, 134. 

K — is Sound, 37;. Keel Hauling. 75: Keeping 
Time from Eternity, 04: King and his Fool, 231 ; 
Kinds of Poetry. 9'j : K ng of Poland in France, 
807 ; King's Evil, 31 ; K ngly Dinner, 151 ; Kings 
and their Trade. 150 : Kit wan, 27 ; Known by the 
Fruits. 77 : Kosciusko, 96. 

Li— 48; Labor, 72; Language (two kinds). 21: 
Laconics, often; Law, 109; Last words of Mar- 
mion, 115; Lafayette, 94; Language of Feeling, 
222; Laughing Scientifically, 77; Lawyer's I at, 
22; Lawyers' Mistake, 29 ; Lawyer and Physi- 
cian, 90: Lawyer and Client. 107, 176; Learning, 
148; Legendary Tales, 106; Listening, 187; Liv- 
ing Temples, 8'9: Lisping. 36 ; Logic, 150; Loins 
of the Mind, 63; Look at Home. 175; Lost Piyse, 
206: Long Enough. 49; Lord Thurlow-'s Speech 
from the Woolsack, 200 : Love, 176. 187, 159, 217; 
Love of Justice. 180; Love and Liberty, 140; 
Love and Alcohol, 125: Love on the Scaffold, 
232; Love and the Stars. 100: Lovely Qualities, 
233; Luxury, 171; Lying, 155; Lycurgus, 51 ; 
Lyceums. 14- 5 . 

'M— 49: Management of the Breath, 97: Man 
a Microcosm, 88. 203: Making Resolutions, 203; 
Madness, 231; Making Game of a Lady, 113; 
Material of all Sounds. 47; Means of Happiness, 
95; Mahomet and the Hill. 112: Malice. 216: 
Matter and Manner, 50, 131, 158, 161: Mathe- 
matics, 54: Mark to Hit, 113: Means of getting 
» Living, 105; Mediums. 20-1 : Male and Female 
Voices, 147; Maxims, everywhere; Mercy. 177: 
Mathematical Honor. 65: Matrimony. 56; Mel- 
ancholy,^^: Means to be used, 19; Men and 
Brutes." 38: Merchants and Pigeons, 111; Men- 
tal Violence, 57: Mediocrity. 137: Melody, 133-6: 
Miser, 87: Mineralogy, 91; Mirth, 174: Minor 
Passions, 199; Ministry of Angels. 171; Mock 
Trial of a Kng, 2(5: Moon Eclipsed. 93: Mono 
tone. 119: Mourners. 187: Movement of Voice, 
13-; Modulation, 143-4; Modes of Spelling, 67; 
Mother's Injunction and Bible, 62: Mouthing, 
116: Mother perishing in a Snow Storm. Ill; 
Mother and Laughter in Prison, 185 \ Modesty, 
218. 223: Mouth. 229: Mr. Psalter. 36: Music. 
101, 163.-4-5 ; Mummy. 23; Muscle Breakers, 43, 
52, and anions the Letters; My Mother. 210; 
Musical Pun. 34: Muscular System. 7: Muscular 
Action. 9, and el-ewhere ; Mutual Mistake, s 9. 

X— 50-1 : Nature alwavs True, 159. 205; Nat- 
ural Th-ology, 90: Nature and Art. 151 : Natu- 
ralists and Realists. 137: Narrow Escape. 25 ; 
Natural Philosophy. 25 : Natural Death. 42 : Nat- 
ural and Spiritual. 18; Natural History. 86 ; Nail 
Fortune's Wheel, 167: Niagara Falls. 167: New 
Character. 99: New Field. G8; Nerves of Or- 
ganic Li f -. 5 — of Motion and Sense. 6— of Res- 
piration, o": Ng. 51: Nobleman and Beggar Boy. 
191; Newton and his Dog, 225; Nothing True 
but Heaven. 18!); Nothing from Nothing, 167; 
Number, 155; Nursery, 39. 

0-25-6-7; 19. 21-9. 30. 57; Obeving Orders. 
140: Observe, 2(5; Oi and Ov, 31 ; Old and New 
Methods of Spelling, 85-6-7; Old Haoits, 124; 
Only way to teach Reading, 1C0; Only Natural 
i?ound. I-; and Notes on, 47; One Tongue 
enoueh. 48: Opening the Mouth. 110: Operat ; ng 
Circumstan-en, ICSj Oratory, 2"", ~4, »10, 156; 



Orator's Fieid. 165— how they are made 68; Ori- 
gin of Language, 60; Oratorical and Poetical 
Actions and Gestures, 11. 12, 13, 14. 15, 10; and 
from 172 onwards ; Orthography, 04-5-0-7, 81 ; 
One Thing at a Time, 114; Orthoepy, bl ; Ou, 
26 ; On and Ow, 32 ; Osseus or Bony Svstem, 7 . 
Our Country, 151 ; Our Food, 31 : Our Book 237; 
Ourselves and ethers. 43 ; Our Sight, 134. 

P— 52: Parenthesis, 91 ; Party Spirit, 35 ; Pa- 
tience and Perseverance, 42; Patrick Henry's 
Treason, 143; Passions and Actions. 170-1, 206, 
212: Pardoning, 217; Patience won't have me, 
60; Parish Clerk and the Banns, 81; Painting, 
205: Painter and the King. 92; Patriots, 133; 
Pelayo, 186; Pauses. So, &.C.: Period. 68; Perse- 
verance. 146 ; Perplexity, 217; Peter the Great 
217; Peter Pricker Prandle, 52; Philosophy of 
Mind, 98. 123. &c: Philosopher Outdone. 195; 
Philosophy, 121 ; Physiological Ignorance. 203; 
Phrenology. 228: Philosophy and Love. 57; Play 
on Words, 174; Perspiration. &c, 8; Pitch, 123, 
143-4-7; Pitt, 31. 88; Ph, 42-3; Pleasures of 
Piety, 217; Plato, 17; Play on X's, 56; Poor 
Priest and the King at Prayer, 205: Political 
Economy, 111 ; Position of Body, 17; Polyglot of 
Body and Mind. 230; PoisonedCup and Cvius; 
188; Pioneers, 150; Position in Bed. 79; Polite- 
ness, 142; Polvcarp and his Lord. 153: Poor 
Fund. 200; Point of Law. 132; Pope and the ?, 
159; Pols and all gone. 173: Pri-nc pies of Elo- 
cution, from 17— 2o7; Prejudice, 140; Precept 
and Example, 141 : Precipitancv, 62; Pride. 154, 
218, 219 ; Prze of Immortality,' 154 ; Preceding 
Principles, 125, &c: Position of Feet and Hands, 
11 ; Progress of Soc ; ety, 119 : Prayer to the Con- 
gregation, 39 ; Proverl s on every page , Prom- 
ises, 124; Promising, 219; Principal and Inter- 
est, 59 ; Powerful Stimulus. 145: Punning, 172; 
Pronunciation. 81, 84; Provincialisms. 53: Pro- 
longation of Sound, 70. 73: Providence, 117; Pi- 
ty. 177, 225, 53 ; Public Speakers should live long- 
est, 149: Pursuit of Knowledge, 168; Pupil and 
Apprentice. 40 ; Pulpit and Theatres. 132; Punc- 
tual Hearers. 139: Punishments, 213; Pulpit 
Flattery, 1^9: Pungent Preaching, 21 2. 

Q,— 37: Quack, 82: Qualifications of Teach- 
ers, 20: Quaker Presents, 199: Qualities. 22: 
Quantity, 70: Qualities of Voice, 140, 142: Qua- 
ker and Soldier, 125: Question Direct. 89 : 
Queen's Reprimand to her Daughter. '22-1: 
Queen Elizabeth and her Ladies, 195: Quinc- 
tillian, 229. 

R— 53-4 : Rainbow, 175: Ranges of Voice, 
134 : Raising Rent, 70: Rage. 150rRapture. 17o": 
Reading, 33, 57. 103, 120: Reading Rooms, 46: 
Range of Knowledge, 66: Railerv, 192, 220: 
Reasoning, 202: Recitations. 166 : from 2' 7— 316: 
Rec pients, 32: Rending by vowel sounds. 33: 
Religious Persecutions. l c 7: Reading Discours- 
es, 71 : Remorse 181. 220: Refusing. 219: Rea- 
son, 131, 227: Reproach, 182: Reproving, 221: 
Revision. 117: Refinement, 93: Rhetoric. 156: 
Rhetorical Pause, 92, 108: Rhetorical Action. 
234: Reforms 164: Riches and Talent. 132: 
Right Views. MP: Rvthm, 96: Rbyrr.etry and 
the Queen, 1 i5 Jv... la's Address t» the Pi nt 
vians, 153: Rhyme, 107: Rose, 72: Revenge, 
!S1 : Ruined Debtor's satisfaction. 179 : Rum and 
Grave Stones, 44 : Rouge. 168: Routes, 21 G. 

S— 36-8-9, 42, 46: Sadness and Sorrow. ISO: 
Safe now, 222: Satan's Speech, 169: Saving 
Fuel, 20 : Sailor and Countess' Eyes, 35 : Sailor 
and Highwayman, 114 : Semi-colon, 86: Science, 
114: Scientific Enthusiasm, 181: Serviie Imita- 
tion, l(&: Seasons. 28: Selfishness. 128. 163: 
Scorn, 190, 222: Seeing Right, 220: Seeing a 
Wind. 23: Self-love, 73: Sea L*wyer3, 77: 
Sense governs. 120: Sheridan. K'7: Shouting, 
115: School Teachers. 130: Sight Rending, 57 
Skips and Slides. 167: Shame, 2u3 : Schoolmas- 
ter and Puti's, 43: Sharp Reply, 163: Slander. 
130: Slender Voice, 155: 8 nking in the Sto- 



CONTENTS OF READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



353 



■aar.h, 92; tiounds, 22; Simple Laughter, 192 ; Simple Bodily Pain, 
!95; Spec lalion like a CoM Bath, 144 ; Strong Points, 106 ; Stand- 
ing, 2-2; Starry Firmament [Addison], 46 ; Strength of Voice, 145; 
Society owes all a Living, 63; Sources of faults, 235; Socrates 
»nd the Tyrants, 102 ; Speaking the Gauntlet, 116; Student's Poe- 
try, 1 16 ; Sommei held and the Bishop, 138 ; Standard of Speaking, 
152; Sterling Integrity, 154 ; Style, 148, 151—9, 160- 1— 2 ; Stresi, 
67; Sublimity and Pathos, 22; Striking out Beauties, 177; Stage 
Regulator, 178 ; Sowing and Reaping, 180 ; Suggestions, 154, 235 ; 
Surmise, 215; Suspicion, 224; StupiJKy, 30; Stretch of Thought, 
231; Spinsters, 54 ; Successful Speaker, 128; Swiss Retort, 127; 
Swearing King, 103; Standing, 22; Swearing, 167; Surprise, 188, 
123 ; Stages of Progress, 170. 

T— 39, 41; Talent, 120; Tale of Wonder, 226; Tallow and 
Talent, 158; Telling Stories, 78; To teach Children, 109; Tele- 
scope, 91 ; Terror, 183, 225, 231 ; Temperance, 138 Teaching, 
225; Theology, 19; Tendency of our Language, 157; Theatres, 
174; Thinking, 175; Thought and Feeling, 114; Thais, 49: This- 
tle Sifter, 60; True Wisdom, 34 ; Triphthongs, 32: Three Essen- 
tials in all things, 51 : Th, 60—1 , True Empire, 76 : Three De- 
grees of Speech, 112: Three modes of Existence, 121: 'thorax, 
9: Tight Dressing, 9: These are my Jewels, 188 : Time in Man, 
166: Truth, 171, 192: True Happiness, 172: This World, 202: 
A fleeting show, 189 ; True Eloquence, 209 : To act a Passion, 212 : 
Too common, 221: True Modesty, 21 : To and The, 57: Tough 
Animal, 79: Truths not Fictions, 170: Too hard, 142: Truth and 
Nature, 130: To prevent Suicide, 10S: Turn Bread into Stones, 
202: Tyrolese Songs, 234 : Transition, 146 : True Philosophy, 135 



qirillity, 172: Tweedledum and Tweedledee, 223 : The Feft, 174 1 
Twilight Dyes, 193: Thou art, O God, 18S: The Rose, 72; The 
Union, 55. 

U— 28-9, 30, 22, 24, 55, 58: Ugly Dreams, 165: Unaccented 
Vowels, 75 : Uncertain quantity of Wine, 62 : Unwelcome Visitor, 
74 : Use of Spelling, 68. 

V — 43 : Vanity Reproved, 162 : Vain Mother, 58 : V\ ieties on 
every page : Veneration, 189, 226 : Ventriloquism, 60: Vehemence 
of Action, 232: Views of Truth, 211: Virtue the best Treasure, 222; 
Virtue before Riches, 160 : Virtuous Friendship, 237 : Vexatiot, 
227 : Voice, 166 ; Vocal Organs, 11 ; Vocal Gymnastics, 23. 

W— 55, 26 ; Warren's Address at the Battle of Bunker Hi!!, 
paraphrxsed, 57 ; War and Truth, 60 ; Washington aad Mother, 
194 ; and W. and the U. S., 100 ; Wh, 62 ; What is Ours, 61 ; Wet 
Minister, IS ; What a Bug! 226 ; Waves or Circumflexes, 130—3 
Weeping Emperor, 218 ; What the Youth had learned, 115; Who 
is wrong in the Argument, 122; What for? 150; We love theaj 
so, 60 ; Who rules ? 53 ; Whitfield Rambling, 50 ; Wm. Penn, 37 ; 
Wirt, 150; Windpipe, &c, 11; Wife, 153; Wild Oats, 19; Win 
ter Evenings, 62 ; Wisdom of our Ancestors, 129 : Weeping, 194, 
William and Lucy, 194: Word Painting, 95, 139, 142: Whipped 
for making Rhymes, 191 : Words, 20 : Worth, 65 : Woman, 75, 
133, 136, 152: Wonder, 188,226: Woman as she should be, 32: 
Working a Passage, 98 : Wrong Choice, 47 : Written Language, 
53—4: World not all a fleeting show, 85 : Written Page, 23a 

X— Pages 56, 57, 63, 64, 65, and 38. 

Y— Pages 58, 22, 23, 24, 29, 63, 64. 

Z_Pages 38, 46. 63, 67 : Zo-ol-o-gy, 7, 104. 



To succeed, 146: Tremor of Voice, 156": Try again, 156: Tran- 

CONTENTS OF READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



A— A Battle Field, 242 ; Abuse of Authority, 269 ; 
Action in War, 232 ; Accomplished Young Lady, 
261 ; Adams and Jefferson, 273 ; Address to Death, 
213; Address to the Ocean , 262; Adherence to 
Truth, 270 ; Advantages of Knowledge, 291 ; Affec- 
tation in Ministers, 235 ; A fawning Publican, 216; 
Against the American War, 243 ; Alexander's Feast, 
315 ; Alexander Selkirk, 295 ; All Labor equally 
honorable, 379 ; All the World 's a Stage, 154 ; A 
Mother's Kindness, 207 ; A Mother's Love, 239 ; 
America (poetry). 277 ; America (prose), 280 ; Amer- 
ican Flag, 288 ; Anthony's Oration over Caesar, 252 ; 
Aaron Burr and Blennerhassett, 268; A Tale of 
Wonder, 226 ; A Rainy Day, 239 ; Aspirations of 
Youth, 246; Atheist and Acorn, 250; Austrian 
Slanders and Hungarian Bravery, 316 ; Autumn 
Evening. 75. 

JB — Balance of happiness equal, 239; Baron's 
Last Banquet, 289 ; Basque Girl, 313 ; Battle Field, 
295 ; Be earnest ! Heart's Apostle, 139 ; Beauty, 
Wit, and Gold, 142 ; Beautiful Cloud, 131 ; Beau- 
ties of Nature, 302 ; Benefits of Agriculture, 288 ; 
Beggar's Petition, 275 ; Beware the first approach 
of Crime, 88 ; Beware' of Avarice, 226 ; Best of 
Wives, 314; Bitter Want, 212; Book of Nature, 
203 ; Bud of Moral Beauty, 231 ; Brutus' Harangue, 
261 ; Burial of Sir John Moore, 242. 

C — Capabilities of Hungary and her Sympathi- 
zers. 316 ; Cassius against Caesar, 242 ; Carelessness 
of Wrongs, 225 ; Cato's Senate, 276 ; Cato's Solilo- 
quy, 310 ; Changing, forever Changing, 48 ; Changes 
of Mind. 236 ; Changing and Unchanging, 239 ; 
Charms of Youth, 202; Charity (St. Paul), 261; 
Character of Woman, 248 ; Character of Cassius, 
224 ; Character of Pitt, 297 ; Character of Bona- 
parte, 802 ; Character of a good Parson, 315 ; Chase 
(the), 284 ; Cheerfulness in Retirement, 172 ; Chest- 
nut Horse, 249 .: Childe Harolde, 262 ; Christ stilling 
the Tempest, 380; Cicero's Oration, Verres, 308; 
Comfort in Affliction, 122 ; Commerce, Art, and 
Religion, 375 ; Comfort in Dying, 216 ; Concealed 
Love, 286 ; Confidence not to be placed in Man, 130 ; 
Constancy of Woman, 295 ; Converse with God, 
207; Coral Grove, 260; Coquetry Punished, 263; 
Curiosity, 134 ; Curran's Daughter, 76 ; Cure for 
Hard Times, 285. 

B>— Dagajer Scene, 193 ; Daily Self-Examination, 
86 ; Darkness. 258 ; Days of Trial to All, 104 ; Da- 
vid's Lament over Absalom, 266 ; Death of a Heart 
Friend, 79; Death and Sin, 101; Deserted Wife, 
904 ; Despair of Mercy, 212 ; Dew-drop in Spring, 
2&1 • Destruction of £enacherib*s Army, 240; Dig- 



nity of Human Nature, 305 ; Discoveries, 304 
Dire effects of Time, 161 ; Disappointed Ambition, 
240 ; Domestic Love and Happiness, 201 ; Doctor 
and Pupil, 293 ; Douglas' Account of Himself, 244 , 
Duties of American Citizens, 311 ; Dying Christian 
to nis Soul, 123. 

JK— Earth has been all alive, 281 : Early Rising 
ana Prayer, 261 ; Education, 278 ; Effects of Gen- 
tleness, 246 ; Eloquence, words of fire, 222 ; Em- 
met's Betrothed, 76 ; Emmet's Vindication in full, 
306 ; Eulogium on Kosciusko, 293 ; Eulogium on 
the South, 254 ; Eulogium on the North, 254 ; Eu- 
ropean Freedom, V. NB. ; Evening Bells, 27 ; Eve's 
Love for Adam, 294 ; Eve's Lament on leaving Par- 
adise, 137 ; Exile of Erin, 273 ; Expressive Silence ! 
muse His praise, 183 ; Exhortation to be courageous, 
208. 

F— Falls of Niagara, 167 ; Famine in Ireland, 376; 
Fancied Infalibility, 238 ; Fatal Remembrance. 229 ; 
Fear of Death. 185; Female Character, 295 ; Fever 
Dream, 265; Fire-Side, 285; Flight of Time, 282 ; 
Flight of Xerxes, 241 ; Flowers and Precipice, 314 ; 
Fortune Teller, '2S2 ; Footsteps of Angels, 278: 
Fourth of July, 373 ; Freedom's Song, 204 ; Free- 
dom's Votaries,. 234 ; Frenchman and his Host, 281. 

€r— Gambling, 153 ; Gambler's Wife, 257 ; Gen- 
tleness, 177 ; Genius, 259 ; Genuine Taste. 257 ; 
Ginevra, 272 ; Giving a Daughter in Marriage, 210 ; 
Give thy thoughts no tongue, 151 ; God in Nature, 
276 ; God's Works praise him, 46 ; Golden Medium, 
219; Good in all Providences, 77 ; Goodness of God. 
256 ; Goodness of Providence, 81 ; Good Night, 282 ; 
Good Merchant. 297 ; Grave of the Renowned. 310 ; 
Greek Literature, 287 ; Groves — God's First. Tem- 
ples, 283 : Grief deploring loss of Happiness, 184. 

i-B— Hail! Memory, Hail! 234; Hannibal to his 
Soldiers, 247 : Hamlet's Instructions on Deliver;-, 
157; Happy the School Boy, 227 ; Harvest Moon 
112 ; Hast thou dream't, 165 ; Hatred cursing. 179 ; 
Heart-Friend, 230 ; Heavenly Love, 137 ; Highest: 
Occupation of Genius, 259; Honest Fame, or none, 
148 ; Home, how that blessed Word. 166 ; Honesty, 
174 ; Hohenlinden, 290 ; Home, 313 ; Hope, 157 ; 
Hope for All, 178 ; How sleep the Brave, 162 ; Hot- 
spur's Apology, 155 ; How to live, 161 ; How beau- 
tiful the World, 197 ; How beautiful is Night. 206 ; 
How Scholars are made, 370; Human Life, 3u9; Hun- 
gary and her Sympathizers. 316 ; Hungary's greai 
Struggles, 300;" Hunters of Gold, 87; Hypocrite 
in Religion, 71 ; Hypocrite, 273. 

1— Idleness, 310 ; Imagination, 221 ; I met a 
Fool in the Forest, 192 ; Immortality of the Soi?J, 



584 



CONTENTS OF READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 



238; Immortal Mind, 257; Improvement of Mind, 
without Display, 248 ; Industry and Eloquence. 
301: Indian Names, 248; Infant Sleeping in a 
Garden, 239 ; Influence of Gold 280 ; Influence of 
the Wife and Good, 809 ; Invocation to Mirth, 174. 

JF— Joy expected, 173 ; Judgment on Adam, 179 ; 
J udginst according to strict Law, 215. 

14.— Knapps Trial, 251. 

L — Languishing Love, 176 ; Land of Rest, 278 ; 
Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers, 311 ; Last linger- 
ing Look. 290 ; Last Acconnt 'twixt Heaven and 
Earth, 184 ; Liberty and Union, 255 ; Life of a 
Drunkard, 253 ; Life is Real, 305 ; Lily of the Vale, 
73 ; Lochiuvar, 297 ; Lo ! the poor Indian, 167 ; 
Lord Ullin's Daughter, 290 ; Lord Thurlow's Speech, 
200 ; Love described, 176 ; Lost Bride, 272 ; Loss of 
National Character, 282 ; Loving is Living, 288 ; 
Love of Praise in everv Heart, 145 ; Love's Sacrifice, 
£13 ; Lucius' Speech "276 ; Lucy, 307. 

Ita— Madness, 2lS; Maid of Mallahide, 267; 
Majesty of the Law, 293 ; Man is dear to Man, 70 ; 
Man made to face the Storm, 152 ; Maniac, 270 ; 
Marco Bozzarris, 267 ; Maria DeTorquenioda, 314 ; 
Marseilles Hymn of Liberty, 292 ; Maternal Affec- 
tion, 303 ; Meek-eyed Morn appears, 170 ; Merchant 
and Scholar, 371 ; Merchants and Shipmasters, 378 ; 
Midnight's holy Hour, 45 ; Military Despotism and 
Insubordination, 281; Milton, 119; Ministering 
Spirits, 47 ; Ministry of Angels, 171 ; Mirth and 
Melancholy, 174 ; Misspent Time, 217 ; Modulation, 
284 ; Modern Republics, 271 ; Moloch's Oration for 
War, 308 ; Moral Truth intelligible to All, 244 ; 
Moonlight and a Battle Field, 255 ; Mortal Coldness 
of the Soul, 179 ; Moral effects of Intemperance, 
240 ; Mother's Injunction, 82 ; Mother perishing in 
the Snow Storm, 111 ; Music the Food of Love, 
187 ; Music ! thou rest of Life, 173 ; Muse of Inspi- 
ration, 235 ; My Birth Day, 71 ; My Mother's Voice, 
125 ; My Country, 260; My Native Land, 151. 

IV — Nature always True, 206 ; Nature and Gar- 
rick, 224 ; Nature of Eloquence, 286 ; Nature's 
Wants are few, 284 ; Nature's Universal Joy, 127 ; 
Nature's Visible Works, 144 ; National Glory, 241 ; 
National Union, 250 ; Natural History of Love, 274 ; 
Needle, 272 ; New England and the Union, 377 ; 
Night Scene in Turkey, 246 ; Nobility of Labor, 
266; No Excellence without Labor, 305; Nose and 
the Man, 265. 

O— Ode on the Passions, 249; Old Age honora- 
ble, 228 ; Old Hat, 296 ; Old Oaken Bucket, 256 ; 
O Sacred Solitude, 181 ; One good Turn deserves 
another, 375 ; One fatal Remembrance, 229 ; Orator 
Puff, 315 ; Ossian's Address to the Moon, 241 ; Os- 
sian's Address to the Sun, 244 ; Othello's Apology, 
292 : Our Country. 240 ; Our thoughts are Bound- 
less, 235 ; Our Toils and their Reward, 238 ; Our 
Exit, 287. 

JP — Parrhasius and the Captive, 274 ; Pardoning 
a cruel Persecution, 217 ; Patriotic Triumph, 263 ; 
Partings and Meetings, 299 ; Parts of the Whole, 
238 ; Patrick Henry's Speech, 277 ; Patriots of the 
Revolution, 55 ; Passing away of the Indians, 114 ; 
Passion's Language, 183 ; Passage of the Red Sea, 
286 ; Patriots have toiled, 133 ; Peace and War con- 
trasted, 257; Pelayo, 186; Perry's Victory, 260; 
Perfect Orator, 279; Pilgrims and their Destinv, 
312; Physical Education, 284; Playing the Fool, 192 ; 
Pleasures of Piety, 217; Player's Profession, 222 ; 
Play — Place of Early Days, 276 ; Pompeii, 275 ; Po- 
litical Corruption, 310; Power of Eloquence, 280 ; 
Power of Imagination, 166 ; Press On (prpse), 246 ; 
Press On (poetry), 279 ; Presence of God, 182 ; Pri- 
mal Duties, 160 ; Progress of Life, 110 ; Progress of 
Liberty, 256 ; Progress of Government, 290 ; Public 
Faith, 309. 

H — Quality of Mercy, 177 ; Qualities surpassing 
Loveliness, 233; Queen Mab, 289 ; 

22. — Raptures, 175 ; Razor Seller, 271 ; Recita- 
tion, 282 ; Recitations instead of Theaters, 264 ; 
Reproaching for want of Courage, 183 ; Resolve, be 
Men, 150 ; Respect to Old Age, 282 ; Resurrection 
oi the Lord, 294 ; devolutions in Nature, 232 ; 
\U i, and Poor Man, 2<i9 ; Richard the Third. 304 ; 



Right of England to tax America, 373 ; Right of 
Free Discussion, 256; Rise with the Lark, 227, 
Holla's Address to the Peruvians, 153. 

S— Sacrifices to Liberty, 229; Saintly Chastity, 
235;. Sailor Boy's Dream, 262; Satan's Decisive 
Speech, 190 ; Satan's Farewell to Heaven, 182 ; Sa- 
tan's Speech to his Legions, 160 ; School Friendships 
often Illusive, 91 ; Serpents of the Still, 253 ; Ser- 
pents in Social Life, 149 ; Sempronius' Speech, 276 ; 
Shakspeare, 289; Shakspeare's Apothecary, 69; 
Shylock's Revenge, 181 ; She walk? in Beauty, 238 : 
Ship sailing, 241 ; Sin and death, 101 ; Slander, 294; 
Slander, 260 ; Something beyond this World, 308 ; 
Sonnet— Enfranchised Bird, 218; Soul forms the 
Body, 290 ; Soul's Defiance, 286 ; Soul's glimpses of 
Immortality, 377; Speech of Belial, dissuading 
War, 275 ; Spectacles, 377 ; Speech of Cataline be- 
fore the Roman Senate, 293 ; Specimen of Indian 
Language, 292 ; Spirits of the Departed, 137 ; Spirit 
of Human Liberty, 377 ; Star of Bethlehem, 294 ; 
Stream of Life, 296; Sublimity of Mountain Scenery, 
250 ; Submission to Heaven, 201 ; Sunset Cloud, 
83 ; Surprise at unexpected Events, 223 ; Supposed 
Speech of John Adams, on adopting the Declara- 
tion, 245 ; Sure Rewards for Virtue, 305. 

T —Talent always Ascendant, 269; Temperance 
in Food and Drink, 309 ; The Alps, 270 ; The Bea- 
con (James), 89 ; The Butterfly, 117 ; The Bible 
worthy of all Acceptation, 128 ; The Day of Life, 
84 ; There 's beauty in the Deep, 164 ; The Epitaph, 
129 ; The Devil's Soliloquy, 190 ; The Drunkard, 
113; The Fisherman, 115 ; The Freeman (Cowper), 
301 ; The Hermit, 249 ; Thanatopsis (Bryant), 287 ; 
The Murderer ( Webster), 251 ; The Invalid abroad, 
252 ; The Quiet Hour of Feeling, 90 ; The Plow, 
379 ; The Rainbow of Omnipotence, 175 ; The Re- 
jected, 304 ; The Rose had been washed, 72 ; The 
Whiskers, 243 ; They know not my Heart, 176 ; 
Three black Crows, 259 ; Time flies, 259 ; Time — 
New Year. 279 ; Time's softening Power, 291 ; Tran- 
quility, 190 ; Tit for Tat, 263 ; This World 's not a 
fleeting Show, 85 ; "lis Midnight deep, 227 ; Thun- 
der Storm on the Alps, 303 ; To Mary in Heaven, 
802; To-day and To-morrow, 301 ; Tranquil Medi- 
tations, 89 ; Tribute to Washington, 289 ; Tribute 
to William Penn, 312 ; True Elocution, 244 ; True 
and False Liberty, 168 ; True Love, 189 ; True Phi- 
losophy, 168 ; True happiness has no localities. 172 ; 
True Friendship, 260 ; True Pleasure defined,' 258 ; 
Twilight Dews, 193 ; Turkey, England, and United 
States, 300. 

U — Universal Emancipation (Gratton), 271. 

V — Vanity, 308; Victim Bride and Miser (Harri- 
son), 291; Village Blacksmith (Longfellow), 299; 
Virtue the best Treasure, 222 ; Virtue the Guardian 
of Youth, 244 ; Virtuous Friendship, 238 ; Voice of 
Infant Freedom (weep not), 78 ; Voice of Nature, 
205 : Vulture and Captive Infant, 247. 

W — Warren's Address (paraphrased), at the Bat- 
tle of Bunker Hill, 57 ; Washington a man of Genius, 
376 ; Water for me, S71 ; Waterloo— the Ball and 
Battle, 264, Way to be Happy, 278; What Com- 
merce has done, 378 ; What Eloquence is, 166 ; 
What 's Fame, 262 ; What the wise Man does, 233 ; 
Wife, Children, and Friends (Spencer), 279 ; Wil 
derness of Mind, 258 ; Wirt's Introductory, 150 ; 
Wisdom's Harp, 132 ; Wise Men's Course, 223 ; Wol- 
sey 's Soliloquy on Ambition, 312 ; Woman's Prayer, 
297 ; Work enough for All, 880 ; Works of the Slan- 
derer, 311 ; World to Come, 280 ; World at a Dia 
tance, 253 ; Worship, 188 ; Worship ! God is pass 
ing by, 102 ; Worship and Rejoice, 183. 

11— Yon Cloud is Bright, 96 ; Youth and Age. 289. 

DIALOGUES. 

Ancient and Modern Virtue, hbB; City Fini»hing (F. F. D.), 3S«: 
Dandy (F F D),3S7; Debating Club (F F It), 344; Dress and A*iurai,ce, ( r 
F 10, 360; Knglisli Traveler (F F D), 300; Female Exquisite, 3f.K; Uridiron, 
(F F D), 337 ; I'll Try ; or, Yankee Marksman (F F D), 35fi ; Import- 
ance of Literature, 37'2 ; Julius Cesar (Kuowles), 3)9; Man is best »» *» 
is IF F I>), 360; lVdantry (F F D), 339; Pedigree (F F D), 350 ; rhre- 
nology, a discussion (F F l>), 351; ITcciscness (F F D), 341 j Uuart.I 
Day(FF D),S62; School CommMee ( F F D). 334 ; Superior value ot 
-oj d Accomplishments, 269; 'I emperance Dialo«i;e (individual i opf 
ritlit) 3,7; Tori.-iHH(FKI)).3«; Vanity punUhcd ( F F D), S61 ; Vi>- 
| la«e S-r— c i, ( F F U), 3-11 ; William Tell, 374. 












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